The Tale of Todeswunch: Pandaria Volume I
by Liostutch
Summary: Todeswunch, led by the newly promoted tauren warrior, are sent on a mission for the Horde. Only to find themselves separated, shipwrecked, and hopelessly unnumbered by an old enemy thought vanquished. Without any means of contacting the rest of the Horde, it is up to Todeswunch, and their inexperienced leader to save this new land.
1. Chapter 1

**The Tale of Todeswunch: Pandaria Volume I**

**Chapter One**

Liostuch shook his head, assaulting the deck of the _Sea Grub_ with a shower of raindrops. The Tauren Warrior's fur was covered in armor, but his uncovered head had quickly become soaked.

"Frenzical!" Liostutch yelled to the Forsaken Shadow Priest perched in the crow's nest. The undead kept a lookout, as he yelled orders to the goblin crew that scurried about the sails and riggings of the ship.

Liostutch didn't understand what he was saying. Despite being raised by orcs, and feeling a stronger kinship to his adopted race than his biological one, he retained the Tauren's natural hatred of water, so he had little knowledge of seafaring terms. Still, he suspected that even if he did know them that Frenzical was speaking gibberish. Much of the Priest's brain bad been eaten by maggots and carrion birds before being resurrected as one of the undead, and that had caused the former human to be a little eccentric, and was often lost in a fantasy world. Being placed on a ship like the _Sea Grub_ been fanning an already terrible flame. He had been talking like a pirate for the last three days.

At first it had been confusing to the ship's goblin crew. The ship's owner, designer, builder, and captain, Oller, had instructed the goblins to obey all members of group's guild _Todeswunch_ as they would their captain. The crew had followed up, after spending ten seconds with Frenzical, if that included the crazy Forsaken. Oller had insisted that they were to especially listen to the crazy Forsaken. After all, despite Frenzical's erratic nature, the Undead was an extremely skilled wielder of the Shadow. In fact, Frenzical's eccentricies had often proven invaluable to the guild.

Fortunately, the goblins had adapted and quickly learned when the Forsaken should and should not be taken seriously. Most of the orders they actually listened to came from their Captain, or within their own chain of command.

"FRENZCIAL!" Liostutch called again, straining to be heard over the wind and increasing rain.

"Yar!" Frenzical yelled back, finally acknowledging the waterlogged Tauren.

"Are you sure you're navigating us _away_ from the storm?"

"What?" Frenzical yelled back. "Can't hear you. The storm's too loud."

Liostutch slapped his forehead. The Warrior would lay down his life for the Forsaken, but at times like this he wondered if his skills with the Shadow were worth all the effort it took just to have a conversation with him.

"Just get down here!" Liostutch yelled.

"WHAT?" Frenzical repeated.

Liostutch stomped his foot and pointed down at the deck. Frenzical nodded, and leapt out of the crow's nest to the nearest rigging rope, and began to hop nimbly down the webbing of ropes. Much more nimbly than one would think his rotting limbs would allow.

Liostutch heard a snort to his left. "I told you not to let that idiot navigate," a coarse and dry voice said.

The speaker was Sadjinn, Liostutch's brother. The Tauren leaned non-chalantly against the mast with his arms crossed. Drops of rain froze into snowflakes as they entered his immediate vicinity.

Even though Liostutch and Sadjinn were twins, they looked nothing alike. There was even less resemblance now that Sadjinn was, like Frenzical, a member of the undead. His undeath, was however, of a different nature than Frenzical's. Sadjinn was a Death Knight, and former general of the Lich King. He and Liostutch had been on opposite sides of the war with the Lich King, and had nearly killed each other on several occasions, but after realizing his master's betrayal, Sadjinn had turned, and joined back up with the Horde he had served during life.

Liostutch stared determinedly into the Death's Knight's glowing blue eyes. The Warrior found it hard to believe those had once held the eyes of Tabikub, the noble Warrior struck down by the Lich King just as he was refining his skills.

"Frenzical's instincts had served us well in the past." Liostutch replied. "Jellochic knew that."

"The Warlock also knew _when_ to use those instincts. The Priest does well in his element, true. But sea navigation is not one of them."

Liostuch sighed. He was beginning to think his brother was right. Liostutch had actually been hesitant of giving Frenzical the job from the beginning. But the Priest had assured Liostutch that he had found a route that would get them to their destination several days ahead of schedule. Grapefruit, the guild's most powerful Shaman, had advised against it. She had communed with the spirit of water, and said a storm was brewing right in the middle of Frenzical's planned course. Frenzical had waved the concern away, claiming he could easily navigate around the storm and still not lose any time.

Liostutch remembered the many times the former guild leader Jellochic had trusted Frenzical, and he had thought the Warlock insane, only to be surprised at the results. He only wished to do what he thought his former leader would do.

With all the grace possible for a walking corpse, Frenzical leapt off one final rigging, slid down the mast, bounced off Sadjinn's head, and landed in front of Liostutch.

"What have I told you about doing that?!" Sadjinn yelled.

"Don't stand there then," Frenzical said to Sadjinn, before turning to face Liostutch. "What's up boss?"

Liostutch held his brother's rage off with a quick glance, and asked his question to Frenzical again.

"The rain and the wind have picked up. Are you sure you're guiding us away from the storm?"

"Of course," Frenzical replied. "What makes you think I'm not?"

"Did you not just hear him you moron?" Sadjinn snapped. "The weather is getting worse."

"Of course it is," Frenzical said. "Haven't you ever heard it's always stormier before the calm?"

Liostutch was beginning to feel like unleashing Sadjinn on the priest would be a good idea.

"I'll ignore everything that is wrong with what you just said, because we have other things to worry about." Liostutch said. "I'm beginning to doubt the route you have us on. Where did you get this information to lay this course? These sources you say you had. You're sure they're reliable."

It briefly occurred to Liostutch that he should have asked that question before setting off on this foolhardy course.

"Of course they are. Chewy has never steered me wrong before. Bitey on the other hand…"

Liostutch felt a cold chill go down his spine.

"Excuse me?"

"Chewy," Frenzical repeated. "I know I took a lot of the credit, but I have to admit this was his baby."

Chewy and Bitey - two maggots that lived in a chewed out hole in Frenzical's brain. He kept their hunger satisfied by feeding them rotting animal meat. Frenzical claimed that they talked to him. Most thought this another example of the Priest's insanity, but the guild's druids had used their abilities to commune with nature to actually confirm that the maggots did actually have some way of communicating with their host.

"You idiot!" Liostutch roared in anger.

He lunged forward and grabbed Frenzical by the throat. Sadjinn leaped out of the way as Liostutch slammed the Forsaken against the mast.

"You plotted our course based on advice from a maggot!" Liostutch yelled, increasing the pressure on Frenzical's throat.

"You mad bro?" Frenzical said. "It's not that big a deal. He knows his stuff."

This last comment only caused Liostutch to put even more pressure on Frenzical's throat.

"You know I don't breathe right?" Frenzical said pointing to the gauntleted hand gripping his throat. "Just saying, if that's what you were going for, you're just wasting your effort."

"I can still snap your neck," Liostutch said through gritted teeth.

Frenzical shrugged. "Someone beat ya' too it. Oller leant me some wacky glue he invented. Still got half a tube."

"You're making jokes?" Sadjinn yelled. "You've doomed us all!"

"Well not all of us," Frenzical said. "You and me will be fine Saddy. One of the perks of being dead. We can't drown."

Subconsciously Liostutch reached for the hilt of one of his oversized (even by Tauren standards) axes. However, before he could do something he would only slightly regret, the ship was rocked by an enormous wave. The trio was thrown a couple feet down the deck, causing Liostutch to drop Frenzical. The undead tumbled ungracefully down the deck.

Suddenly a loud scream could be heard overhead. One of the goblin crew, who had been securing a rigging line, had lost his footing from his precarious post. He smacked into a few lines before hitting the ground with a sickening thud. A few more goblins tumbled down the deck, crashing into various objects.

Of the three Todeswunch members, Frenzical was the first to his feet.

"Damn, maybe maggots aren't the best navigators after all."

Liostutch moved to charge the undead, but was stopped by a cold hand on his shoulder.

"As much as I would enjoy seeing you cleave this idiot in two," the Death Knight said. "There are more pressing matters."

Liostutch relaxed slightly. "You're right. We need to gather the guild. I'll find Oller and see if he can turn this thing around. Sadjinn, find Grapefruit, she controls the elements; maybe she can redirect the storm. Frenzical, wake Pixie up, those goblins are going to need healing."

"Pixie," was Serdepixie, the guild's resident Holy Priest, and one of the only ones aboard the ship with advanced healing skills.

"There's no need for that," Frenzical said. "Their injuries don't look that bad. I've sure had worse. I may not be as skilled with the Light as I used to be, but I still have some rudimentary healing skills."

Liostutch gave Frenzical a cold look. "I said find _Pixie_! Right now I don't trust anything you can do at a rudimentary level."

If Frenzical was stung by the comment he hid it well.

"Jeez, alright already, but I'm telling her you were the one who woke her up."

Without another word, Frenzical took off to fetch Serendipixie from her quarters. Sadjinn just gave his brother a nod before going off to fetch the guild's shaman. Liostuch in the meantime took off to the ship's control room.

The _Sea Grub_ – named by Frenzical, who named most things in the guild – was unlike most seafaring ships. It had been designed by Oller, an engineer and tinkerer, not a ship maker, and was controlled from a variety of gadgets in a control room, rather than a wheel on the deck. Usually the ship was powered by some sort of explosive Goblin fluid, but they had had difficulties with the engine over the last couple days, and had been forced to rely on the ships sails and the wind. Fortunately when you had a Shaman on board the winds could be very cooperative.

Liostutch stepped into the control room, where Oller stood over a clanging and hissing console. He kept banging on it with the butt of his gun and cursing. With the ship's engines out, the dozen or so goblins that normally buzzed about in the control room had been cut in half. But there was still a flurry of activity. Goblins that were left fiddled with switches dials and wheels, which Liostutch, which Liostutch knew were used for navigation and predicting weather patterns. Amidst all the chaos, Oller's dog Hel rested comfortably as if nothing was abnormal was going on.

"Stupid piece of junk, I didn't design ya' like this." Oller yelled.

"Oller," Liostutch said approaching the captain. "We have a problem."

"Ah Lio," Liostuch said turning to face his companion. "Was wonderin' when ya'd show up."

Despite the direness of the situation, Liostutch couldn't help but smile, hearing that country accent come from the mouth of Oller's race never failed to amuse him. Unlike the rest of the crew, Oller was an Orc, and unlike the rest of his race, this orc had an affinity for engineering. This meant he had a tendency to surround himself with goblins rather than other orcs. The guild turned to the Hunter when they needed anything regarding machinery.

"We need you to turn this tu- ship around," Liostutch said, catching himself before referring to Oller's ship as "tub." For an orc Oller was incredibly calm, but speak ill of his beloved inventions and you could easily unleash his race's trademark bloodlust. "Frenzical's route was garbage."

Oller snorted. "I figured that out yesterday," Oller said. "I wouldn't be much of a Captain if I didn't. 'Sides, what d'ya think all these instruments are for? Shinin' my rifle? We've been on a new course fer the last twelve hours."

Liostutch smiled. He was too relieved to be angry at Oller for not telling him about the course change. Still, that didn't explain why the storm was getting worse.

"There's something else isn't there?" Liostutch asked.

"Isn't there always," Oller replied. "That mist we sailed into a couple days ago. I think there was something unnatural about it. It may have been what knocked out our engines."

Liostutch considered this. He remembered entering that strange fog. Grapefruit had said that she felt uneasy about the mists, but Liostutch had written it off. The Warrior's adoptive father had been a shaman, and it seemed they were always uneasy about something.

Oller went on. "It also caused our navigation system ter malfunction. Subtly too, didn't notice they were off 'till recently. The new course I set to correct Frenzical's actually pointed us towards the storm not away from it."

"So you're saying I might owe Frenzical an apology?"

"Wouldn't go that far friend," Oller said. "His course would have sent us into the storm too, the mists just made the situation worse."

"So can you turn this thing around or not?" Liostutch asked.

"Been trying to," Oller answered. "But with the engines out we're relyin' on the sails, and sails rely on the wind, and the win ain't cooperating with us. In fact -" Oller stopped, as if he was ashamed of what he had just been thinking.

"Go on," Liostutch said.

Oller was hesitant, but he continued. "The crew, they're reporting that whenever they adjust the sails in one direction, the wind shifts to send us exactly where we don't want to go. It's almost as if – well as if the winds are literally pushing us into the storm."

"Dat be exactly wat be 'appenin'," a voice in a heavy troll accent said.

At that moment, Sadjinn with Grapefruit, a female troll shaman, stepped into the room.

Oller sighed. "Not this again. Yer timing is spot on as always Troll. You never miss a chance to argue with me do ya'?"

"It be as I told ya' orc," Grapefruit said, her tusks framing her frown perfectly. "Da' spirits dey be angry."

"It's _weather_!" Oller snapped. "It doesn't have emotions. It acts based on patterns." Oller tapped one of his consoles. "Patterns I can predict."

"You still be doubtin' da spirit a da elements' existence? Even do you be witnessing wat dey be doin' with your own eyes."

"I didn't say I doubted their existence missy," Oller said. "I've seen you strike down enough Alliance with lightning bolts and fire to know they exist. I'm just saying I can tell what the elements are going to be doing. For someone who commands them as a weapon you'd think you'd understand that."

"I be commanding nutin' mon!" Grapefruit yelled. "An' you be understandin' nutin'."

"Enough!" Liostutch yelled. "You can have your science versus faith debate later. Right now we have a situation to deal with. Grapefruit, we need to get out of this storm, and the sails aren't cutting it. Do you think you could summon up a gust of wind and get us away from the storm? Or better yet, ask the storm to get out of our way."

Grapefruit let out a burst of laughter. "I be tinkin' ya shuld be knowin' better than dat. As I be sayin', I be commandin' nutin'. When I need da help of da' elements, I be askin'. And if they be willin', dey be grantin'. No storm be gettin' outta da' way o'a bunch of mortals. No matter 'ow polite I be askin'. You bein' a son a one of da' 'orde's great shaman's mon. You be knowin' dis."

"That's not what, I meant," Liostutch said. "Can't you do something?"

"I be tryin' dat already. Da spirits a water an' wind be angry. Dey warn me ta' stay outta dese waters, 'cause they be conjurin' up a storm tonight. We ignore 'dem, so we be on our own."

Oller snorted a response. "If we're on our own, why are they pushing us towards the storm, instead of just letting us find our own way out?"

"Da spirits, dey don't be caring for arrogance. An' you orc –"

"Don't, Grapefruit," Liostutch said. "Just don't."

At that moment, Frenzical and Serendepixie burst into the room, the last of the Todeswunch members currently aboard the _Sea Grub_.

"What's going on? I thought you figured this thing out," Serendipixie said, looking at Oller.

Pixie was in stark contrast to the rest of the guild, as were most members of her race compared to the other races the Horde. The Blood Elf priest, unlike the gruff looking Taurens, Orc, Forsaken, and Troll in the group was fair and beautiful. Her skin was a light shade of pink, with blonde hair tied back, and held in an updo. She wore shimmering maroon coloured robes, which somehow never managed to become soiled, and emblazoned with the crest of Silvermoon. Liostutch knew little of the Light, but he guessed that the Blood Elf's talent with it had little to do with this cleanlieness.

Liostutch considered what the Blood Elf had just said, and quickly put two and two together.

"You told her about the course change, and not me?" Liostutch said.

Oller shrugged. "I wanted a second opinion. And Pixie knows Frenzical better than anyone. As for you, you seemed confident in Frenzical's abilities. And I knew you would inevitably tell me to stay on Frenzical's course. Think about it. Do you honestly think I made the wrong decision?"

Liostutch sighed, and said nothing. Of course he didn't. Still, it stung that now four of the five guild-mates on this trip with him had been against his decision. Not only that, two of them had actively gone against it.

Liostutch exchanged a look with Serendipixie, and suddenly noticed how pale she looked. He quickly forgot about his leadership insecurities, and moved on to another concern.

"The goblins? Are they alright?" Liostutch started.

Serendipixie, smiled a warm smile. "They're fine. It takes more than a being knocked around a bit to kill a goblin."

"And how about you? It looks like you used a lot of energy."

Pixie shrugged. "There were a lot of them. Don't worry, I'm fine. Remember Icecrown Citadel? I healed you through worse injuries than that."

Liostutch only had a moment to exchange smiles with Pixie before one of the consoles red lights lit up and began screeching.

"Sir," one of the goblins manning the console said. "We have a breach. Water is pouring in!"

Oller turned to the goblin. "Where?"

"The lower decks. The stables to be exact." The goblin replied.

Liostutch's eyes went wide.

"The mounts!" he yelled. "George!"

George - Liostutch's raptor mount. Most of the guild members had brought along loaner mounts, but Liostutch had a special bond with his oversized raptor mount, and he couldn't bear to leave him behind. George had been with him since he was a fledgling Warrior exploring Azeroth for the first time.

"Go," Oller said. "I'll handle the control room. I'll send a team after you to see if we can repair that breach.

Liostutch and Pixie exchanged a look, and took off together. Pixie had a side gig of raising mounts, and most of the loaner mounts belonged to her. She felt connected to each of them.

The pair tore through the deck, fighting off the elements, which had only gotten worse since entering the control room, and ran down the stairs to the lower decks. The stables would be in one of the lowest levels, but at the speed they were going it only took a few moments for them to reach the stables.

There was already a foot of water pouring in from a hole on the far side of the stables, and most of the mounts were panicking. Only George, an enormous black raptor – large enough to carry a fully grown male Tauren for hours without tiring - and Jennessa, Pixie's own maroon feathered Hawkstrider mount, remained calm.

Liostutch wasted no time. He reached George's stable, and opened the door. The raptor was still perfectly calm. He was no fool though, he understood the danger, but he also trusted his master to lead him to safety.

George needed no lead, not that there would have been time to put one on. He simply trotted out of his stable at Liostutch's command. Jennessa had done the same for Pixie. So skilled with a mount was the Blood Elf that she was already atop her Hawkstrider and herding the other mounts up the stairs. There was no room for Liostutch to mount George, so the Black raptor simply followed the Tauren.

Just as Pixie had finished herding the last of the mounts up the stairs, George froze. His head darted to the right side of the stables. Seconds later there was an enormous crashing sound as a giantic piece of rock shot through the side of the stables. It was gone moments later as the ship moved forward, but it left behind a massive hole. In an instant, a rush of water swept Serendipixie and her mount away.

"Pixie!" Liostutch yelled, reaching his hand out in vain.

He began to run towards the water, but the Blood Elf was nowhere in sight. Before Liostutch could take another step, George had leapt over his head, and began to snap at him. He was attempting to herd Liostutch back.

Another breach! Then, a wall of water punched a hole in the opposite wall, and another wall of water wave poured into the stables. Both the raptor and the Tauren were swept into the sea.

Liostutch flailed about in open water. His natural instincts were to panic, but the Warrior had been in too many battles to let panic overtake him. He desperately tried to figure out which way was up, but just as he thought he had it, the water would push him in another direction and he was lost again.

Liostutch opened his eyes for a moment, and he could feel his heart stop. He saw Jennessa flailing, her talons gripping her mistress with all her might. Serendipixie was limp, her body eerily still. That was the last thing Liostutch saw before he slammed into something hard he slipped into unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sadjinn sunk. After an uncertain amount of time of being thrown about by the ocean currents, the Death Knight had finally found a patch of the ocean calm enough that allowed him to descend. He could have struggled to stay aloft, but it would have been no use. Even when the Tauren had been alive, he had been unable to swim. Now, with armour weighing him down, and an unliving body, he had even less hope of staying afloat.

He could feel the water pouring through small gaps in his armour, and filling the hole in his body where his heart and his lungs had once been. They had been destroyed as Frostmourne, the Legendary Blade of the Lich King, had been thrust into his chest. It had been the wound that had ended his life, and began his unlife as a Death Knight.

Sadjinn had one saving grace. He may sink to the ocean's floor, but he would not perish there. Frenzical had been right. He did not need to breathe; otherwise he may have fought his lack of buoyancy harder. He need only wait until he hit the bottom, and then walk back to shore.

It was not the greatest plan. Sadjinn had no idea how far he was from the shore, worse yet, he had no idea in which direction the shore was. For all he knew he could wander in circles for eternity. He weighed the options in his mind, and could find no other.

Then – a Shadow, and a rather large one at that. It was in front of him, and not too far below. At his current rate of descent, he surmised he would intersect with its path. As the shadow drew closer, the Death Knight began to be able to identify the creature. It was a whale shark - one of the largest creatures inhabiting the Azerothian Seas. A modest size one would easily dwarf _The Sea Grub_, or any other sea faring vessel for that matter. Fortunately, they were gentle creatures, and only dangerous if provoked. Even more fortunately, they were not true sharks. They needed to return to the surface for air. It was within that fact, that Sadjinn saw an opportunity.

The tauren readied himself as he sunk and the creature drew closer. He resisted the urge to unsheathe his runeblade _Armageddon_. The use of the sword would increase his plan's chance of success, but it may cause the creature pain, provoking it to defend himself, and Sadjinn was in no position to do battle.

As Sadjinn continued to sink, the creature drew closer. The death knight readied himself – and lunged – as close as a lunge he could muster underwater anyway. His gauntleted hand reached out and grabbed hold of the whale shark's enormous pectoral fin – a fin larger than the largest sail the tauren had ever seen. The whale shark flinched, slightly, noticing its new passenger, but not caring enough to do anything about. Sadjinn guessed it was so used to smaller fish scavenging the "crumbs" of the creature's meals, that a something smaller than itself hitching a ride was not an uncommon occurrence.

Sadjinn need only wait now. Wait, and cling to the creature for dear life. Fortunately, he didn't have to wait long. A few moments later Sadjinn could see light penetrating the water. Suddenly the whale shark breached the surface. Sadjinn heaved himself on top of the fin. He only needed to balance for a moment as he placed a single hoof onto the surface of the water, and expelled at blast of unnatural cold beneath it. Seconds later, the water beneath the hoof froze to solid ice - solid enough to support the weight of a full grown tauren. Even a full grown tauren weighted down with armor, and an oversized sword.

With Sadjinn's weight on the ice, the whale shark, still swimming forward, left the Death Knight to balance on the patch of ice. Sadjinn placed his second hoof down and the water surrounding the first patch of ice also froze. Lastly the Death Knight extended the cold below the ice platform as far as he needed to prevent the tiny ice flow from moving. For now Sadjinn wished to stay in place. He needed to get his bearings before he started to move, and fortunately, the tauren knew how to navigate by the stars.

"Hmph," Sadjinn said to no one. "How long was I down there?"

The storm was gone – completely. Sadjinn was looking up at a clear night sky, and an unknown set of stars.

"Perfect," Sadjinn again said to no one. "Though I suppose there are other ways."

And there were. Sadjinn could see something in the distance - movement in the sky – too small to be any sort of airship. They had to be birds, and birds meant land. Sadjinn began walking towards the birds, leaving a trail of ice behind him.

* * *

"Turn it around!" Oller yelled, clutching desperately to a rigging rope.

He had grown impatient with the lack of results in the control room, and had run out to the deck to take a more direct approach with the sails. It wasn't working. Worst yet, they had just hit a particularly large wave, the impact of which had sent Sadjinn overboard. The fact that neither he nor the goblins had been able to turn the boat around five minutes later was starting to grind on his nerves.

"TURN. IT. AROUND!" Oller repeated. "That's my friend down there. He's undead and weighted down. He'll sink in a matter of minutes."

"We've been trying sir," the goblin closest to the Orc Hunter-Engineer said. "The winds and waves are too strong, also I've just gotten a report that we struck something. We're taking on more water."

"How much water?" Oller asked.

"ALOT," was the goblin's only response. "In a few moments time, I'm not even sure how long _we'll _be floating."

"What's the problem?" Frenzical said, appearing as if from nowhere.

"What have I told you about doing that?" Oller snapped. "And didn't I tell you to check on Liostutch and Pixie?"

"Did that," Frenzical said. "Met up with the mounts half way down the stairs. Figured they got them to safety. Just in time too. The stables are underwater."

"UNDERWATER!" Oller said.

"I told you sir," the goblin said. "We're taking on a lot of water."

"And did you look for Liostutch and Pixie?"

"Underwater?" Frenzical said. "Why would they be underwater. They breathe air."

Oller usually had a considerable amount of patience for Frenzical. In fact, he usually enjoyed it, being considered eccentric himself. However, now those personality quirks weren't amusing, they were putting his friends in danger.

"My point exactly! What if -"

Oller saw Frenzical's yellow-glowing eye sockets widen with comprehension.

"I'm gone. I'll find them," Frenzical said with more seriousness than he had ever seen the Forsaken show.

"No," Oller said, stopping the Priest, placing a free hand on his robed shoulder. He turned to the goblin next to him. "Get three or four goblins and plenty of underwater breathing devices. Don't come back up until you've found the tauren and the blood elf."

The goblin nodded, and obediently took off. Oller turned back to his undead companion.

"You can do more good up here," Oller said. "We lost Sadjinn with that last wave, he fell overboard."

"On it!" Frenzical said with a salute. "I'm going after him."

"NO!" Oller yelled.

Too late. The enthusiastic Forsaken was off. Seconds later he had leaped off the deck and into the ocean.

"Stupid Forsaken!" Oller cursed.

Oller wanted Frenzical to help him turn the ship around, so he could retrieve the Death Knight. Maybe his Shadow powers could be of some use. Instead, now he had two undead companions to retrieve, and who knew what had happened to Lio and Pixie. The only member of the guild accounted for now was Grapefruit. God bless her. Even with their differences, he had to admire her.

With the elemental spirits ignoring her, she was robbed of her powers, but even so she was doing what she could to make herself useful. She was scrambling about the deck with the goblins trying to maintain control of the ship. Maybe the Hunter-Engineer had been too-

"Rowfrowfrowf!" the sound of barking suddenly rang into Oller's ears.

"Hel?" Oller said.

Oller's loyal Mastiff, who had been quiet and calm through the ordeal suddenly came rushing out of the control room, barking so loudly that even the storm struggled to drown him out. That was not a good sign. Hel never made a fuss unless there was a serious threat that the canine knew neither he nor his master could get out of.

Hel, stopped short of his mater's feet, and quickly turned to stare at the control room, growling at it as if it were some sort of beast.

What happened next sent a chill through the old orc's spine. He heard a low cracking sound. He'd heard that sound at sea before. It could only mean one thing.

"Forget the sails!" Oller yelled. "The Grub is done, get to the life-"

The low crack was replaced with a booming one as the ship split at the control room. Seconds later, that half of the ship was gone, and the rest of the ship tilted upwards as it began to sink.

Terrified screams filled the air as dozens of goblins and a single troll were flung into the sea. Oller did his best to keep his footing, but he stumbled and began to join the rest of his crew. For a moment his fall was halted as Hel's teeth grabbed hold of the orc's cloak. Somehow the dog was still clinging to the deck. Unfortunatley, the ship was sinking too quickly, and even the determined Mastiff could hold on no longer, and both Hel and Oller fell and were swallowed by the sea.

* * *

So, Frenzical thought to himself. _I'm surrounded by water. Maybe this wasn't my best move._

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. Frenzical, despite being dead, was a pretty good swimmer. The fact that he didn't need air to live had always helped him in the water. Of course he hadn't thought there would be much of a difference between swimming in the still standing sludge in the Undercity and the storm-brewed ocean. That was until, he actually jumped in. Now he was being thrown about like – well, a corpse in a storm. The worst of it was Sadjinn was nowhere to be seen. If he was going to get out of this, and save his friend, he needed a different approach.

Fighting the current, which whipped his limbs about, Frenzical managed to reach into one of his satchels, and retrieved a single feather. Gripping the feather in his bony hands the Priest said a brief prayer to the Shadow. He opened his hands, and what was left of the feather was now nothing but dust – dust covered by an eerie purple shadow. The spell had the desired effect, and the Forsaken, despite the whipping currents, floated unencumbered towards the surface. He did not cease rising until his feet hovered inches above the water.

"Despairing Shadow," Frenzical said, beginning a new prayer. "Shroud me in your darkness, so that I may be protected from the elements."

Frenzical's prayers were answered seconds later as his entire body was engulfed in deep purple darkness, turning his body translucent. It was the Shadow Priests' shadow form, a state in which the Priest would step partway into the dimension of shadow.

{You know, I really hate it when you do this.} Bitey said, communicating through Frenzical via the Priest's rotting brain, which he and his companion Chewy called home. {It's creepy.}

{I like it,} was Chewy's only response.

"No choice," Frenzical said, uncharacteristically serious. "I'll never find Sadjinn without it."

The Shadow Priest's Shadow Form, was one of their most called upon spells. Its primary purpose was to increase the power of shadow spells, but Frenzical had found a way to modify it slightly, taking him almost completely out of Azeroth and into the shadow, so that nothing in it could harm him, but keeping enough of a foothold within Azeroth that he could still interact with it. Unfortunately, it was a technique he had not perfected, and he could only use it momentarily. If he stayed in it too long he risked being enveloped by the Shadow entirely. For now he was willing to risk that, for combining his Shadow form, and his levitation spell (a much safer, and longer lasting spell) he would be invulnerable to the raging storm.

{Sorry, if I don't like the idea of being swallowed up by purplely goo.} Bitey said.

{You don't like anything fun.} Chewy responded.

Normally Frenzical would be happy to join in on the maggot's debate. However, he had no time now. The glowing orbs that now served as the former human's eyes searched the water for any sign of his friend.

{Maybe a Levitation spell wasn't the best of ideas.} Chewy said.

{You'd rather be underwater?} Bitey responded. {Frenzical may not need to breathe, but we do.}

{We're insects you idiot.} Chewy said. {We can create an air pocket and stay underwater for ages.}

{We're not deer ticks! Have you ever tried to create an air pocket?}

{How do you know?} Chewy said. {We're larvae. You never met our parents. For all you know we're Sithilid.}

{Sithilid? We're too small to be Sithilid stupid.}

"You're flies!" Frenzical said. "Ordinary house flies. Get to the point already."

{Jeez, someone's in a mood.} Chewy said.

{He always gets like that when his friends are in trouble.}

{Anyway...} Chewy went on. {What I meant was, the Death Knight was wearing a ton of armour and that enormous slicing thing of his. He's not going to float for very long. We might have to kill the Levitation spell, and try the Shadow form under-}

"Wait!" Frenzical said. He had suddenly spotted movement. "There's something in the water there."

Frenzical's supernatural orbs locked on a series of frantic splashing in the distance. Moments after spotting the splashing, the Forsaken's feet, whose boney toes had punctured the tips of his boots, began to carry him to the source of the disturbance, the levitation spell allowing Frenzical to walk on air as if it were solid ground.

Frenzical was only a few feet from the spot when a purple Hawkstrider's head broke the surface, squawking in an irritated panic.

"Jennessa!" Frenzical shouted.

The Forsaken absent-mindedly remembered that he hadn't seen the Hawkstrider among the mounts that had escaped the stables. Come to think of it, Liostutch's oversized raptor mount had not been with them either.

With his right arm, Frenzical grabbed Jennessa by the back of the neck and hauled her out of the water, and with his left, plucked a single feather from her head. Using the Feather as a makeshift reagent, Frenzical cast the Levitation spell on the Hawkstrider, and she was hovering above the water just as Frenzical was. The mount was disoriented at first, but the Levitation spell was not exclusive to Shadow Priests. Pixie had cast it on herself and her mount on several occasions, so Jennessa quickly understood what was happening, and now that she was out of the water settled down somewhat. Only somewhat –the Hawkstrider still seemed preoccupied with something in the water directly beneath her.

{I think she's holding something.} Bitey said.

The maggot was right. Clutched in Jennessa's talons was the collar of a red and gold robe, and attached the robe was its Blood Elven owner.

"Pixie!" Frenzical yelled, his voice filled with concern.

The Priest quickly reached down, and helped Jennessa haul her master out of the water, gently placing her on the Hawkstrider's back.

Frenzical could feel his shriveled heart sink into his rotting stomach. Serendipixie wasn't moving. He wasn't even sure she was breathing. He didn't remember much about being alive, but he was pretty sure that breathing was an important part of it, at least for Blood Elves.

"We need to get her out of this storm NOW."

Frenzical quickly came up with a plan. It was risky, but he didn't hesitate to carry it out. In a single motion, he leaped onto Jennessa's back, and extended his Shadow form to cover not only himself, but Serendipixie, and her mount as well.

Jennessa seemed unnerved by being enveloped in the Shadow, but she had learned to trust Frenzical as her mistress had, and seemed at the very least tolerant to the new dimensional state of being. Frenzical on the other hand was not as confident. The strain of keeping all three of them within the Shadow was beginning to take him. Every second he could feel himself being pulled out of Azeroth into the Shadow.

"GO!" Frenzical said, tapping Jennessa's rump slightly.

The Hawkstrider didn't hesitate, carried by the Levitation spell she took off over the ocean, in a direction Frenzical prayed to the Shadow would carry them into calmer weather.

* * *

The water where the _Sea Grub_ had once floated settled itself as the ship disappeared beneath the waves. It was now disturbed only by the flurry of rain and the lashing of waves whipped up by the violent winds.

Suddenly the waters began to churn again and an inflatable vessel broke the surface, carrying inside an aggravated orc, two terrified goblins, and a very discontent mastiff.

"When does the old pocket raft ever not come in handy?" Oller said, patting the motor attached to the back of the raft, which he had designed to uncollapse as the raft inflated.

"I'd call any invention that saves my hide ingenius sir," one of the goblins said, clinging to the side of the raft. "But – if the sea grub sank, what makes you think this thing will last any longer."

"It might not," Oller answered. "That's why we have to get movin' to calmer waters as soon as possible. First things first boys. We have to find any other survivors."

"Is that a good idea boss?" the second goblin asked. "Wouldn't that put _our_ lives-"

"I said we're going to search for survivors!" Oller said firmly, giving his best intimidating-orc-face to his subordinate.

"Of course sir – it's just, how do we find them."

"Hel?" Oller said to his pet. "You want to answer that question?"

Hel barked in response, and lifted his nose to the air. It was only moments later before the Mastiff ran to the one side of the raft and began barking furiously.

"That's me boy!" Oller said. "Even with all this water clogging yer' sniffer. You're still a brilliant tracker. Better than any radar even my brilliant brain could design."

Oller flipped a few switches on the craft's motor and it sputtered to life. The Hunter grabbed hold of a bar used to steer the raft and they moved forward in the direction that Hel had indicated.

Their search was not as lucrative as Oller had hoped. They managed to find five goblins. Only two of which were still alive. Oller allowed for only a few seconds of silence to honour them. Any longer would put the lives of anyone still alive at risk. The goblins didn't seem to mind. Death was a common occurrence while on the job for their race, even the in the safer professions. As long as they were still paid, ceremony over a colleague's death could be overlooked. Besides, Oller was a generous employer, and they knew that the deceased families would be more than compensated for the death of their kin. That was far more important than any memorial.

As the group located a third still-living goblin, and pulled him onto the raft, Hel, leapt to the opposite side of the raft, and began barking furiously – even more so than before. Oller wasted no time. As soon as the goblin was safely pulled into the raft he fired up the motor, and shot forward.

They traveled for a few moments before they saw Grapefruit, sitting on top of the water in a meditative position. She sat undisturbed by the storm in a bubble of air, with the raindrops falling around the bubble, and the wind going out of its way to avoid it.

Oller pulled the raft up to the shaman, and gave her a grin. "I thought your powers weren't working?" he said.

"I be telling ya," Grapefruit said. "Dey no powers a mine. Da elements be angry, but not angry enough it seems ta' be wishin' me dead. Dis.." she waved her had at the raindrops and wind avoiding her immediate vicinity. "…be just a small favor."

"Well," Oller said extending his hand to the troll. "Do you think if you asked them nicely enough they'd be willing to extend that favor to this modest craft? Let's say… if I humbly apologized for steering into their storm?"

Grapefruit raised a surprised eyebrow, and graciously accepted Oller's hand.

"Da spirits always be listenin' to an old fool that be acknowledgin' 'is mistakes," Grape fruit said stepping into the raft.

"I wouldn't go that far," Oller said.

No sooner than Oller had said this, than the "anti-weather bubble" that had been protecting only Grapefruit expanded to cover the entirety of the raft. The five goblin passengers immediately relaxed a little.

Grapefruit gave an amused grin. "Dey be even more impressed by 'onesty."

"Well let's not squander the small gift they've given us," Oller said. "I'm a little disoriented Grape. Do you think you could tell me where, if anywhere, there's a calmer patch of weather."

"I be sensin' calmer spirits to da' south," Grapefruit said pointing South, or at least what Oller assumed was south. Without his tracking instruments, and the storm covering up the stars, he was at a loss.

"Then south it is," Oller said.

The motor whirred to life, and the craft shot towards the south with a mechanical roar.

* * *

Frenzical wasn't sure how long they'd been running. It was probably shorter than it seemed. He had been in Shadow Form too long. He knew that much. He could feel himself slipping from Azeroth. Shadow fiends, invisible to everyone else, tugged at his soul, beckoning for him to become a permanent part of the Shadow. As a denizen of that unholy power, Frenzical would someday welcome that idea. However, he was not dead yet. Well, he was, but he meant a different type of death - true death. Thus, he was not ready to succumb to that dark embrace. Besides, he had Pixie to think of.

The undead could hold on no longer. He would have to take his chances with the weather. He dropped his shadow form. Fortunately, it seemed Frenzical had been so busy trying to stay with Azeroth, he had not even noticed what had been happening within it.

While the storm had no means come to an end, they seemed had gotten far enough away from its epicentre that they could tolerate it.

{Glad that's over.} Chewy said.

"Would...you...just...shut up," Frenzical said spitting out words between breaths.

{How are you out of breath?} Bitey asked.

"I'm...not..." Frenzical replied. "Just...doing it...to communicate...that…I'm…FREAKING EXHAUSTED!"

{I didn't think undead got tired.} Bitey said. {I mean, you don't sleep.}

"We still have something that powers us," Frenzical said. He spotted a small rock jutting out of the ocean. It was flat enough that they could stop and he could tend to Serendipixie. "I'm not sure what it is exactly, but it can run out just like whatever energy powers the living."

Finally, Jennessa was putting her talons on dry – so to speak – land. Frenzical immediately dropped the levitate spell. Fortunately, levitation was a rudimentary spell, and took very little energy, especially compared to protecting a Hawkstrider, a Forsaken, a Blood Elf, and two maggots within the Shadow.

Clutching Serendipixe in his arms, Frenzical leapt off the Hawkstrider's back and carefully placed Serendipixie on the flattest surface of the bare rock-island. If the Forsaken's heart still worked, it would have been racing. The Shadow had sustained her somewhat, but Pixie was a creature of the Light, and it could only do so much. Her condition had definitely worsened.

{What are you going to do?} Chewy said. {Can your Shadow-healing spells help her?}

"If she was undead, or in better shape yes," Frenzical answered. "But she's alive – she needs the Light."

{Can we eat her then?} Bitey asked.

Frenzical suddenly gave his head a violent shake.

"Ask that again!"

{Jeez. Someone's a little sensitive.}

"She only has one chance," Frenzical said.

He sighed (without the ability to truly exhale, it was purely for show), closed his eye orbs, and opened his hand so that it hovered flat over Pixie's chest.

"Light…" he said softly.

{Are you nuts?} Bitey said. {You can't -}

"You know very well how sane I'm not. So shut up!" Frenzical snapped, his orbs shooting open. "This isn't like praying to the Shadow. I need to concentrate."

"Light," Frenzical repeated. "I know we haven't been on the best of terms for the last decade or so, what with you being the holiest of all holies, and me be being a creation of everything that is unholy, and all. Those things do tend to clash after all. But this isn't about me, and as arrogant, divine, and all-encompassing as you are, this isn't about you either. It's about this girl, dying at my feet, and you and I both know, when it comes to your – for lack of a better term – radiance, she reeks of it. And it would be wrong for you to let that light go out simply because you were to petty to let someone you deemed unworthy to be your vessel. So please, if you're truly as good as the living say you are, you'll help me with this."

Frenzical kept his eyes shut, tight, and repeated a shorter and paraphrased version of the prayer twice more.

{This isn't going to -} Bitey started, but was suddenly cut off.

A tiny ball of light emerged from out of Frenzical's palm and engulfed Serendipixie's body. The effect was immediate. Serendipixie's eyes fluttered open.

"Wh-what happened?" she stuttered. Then her eyes shot open as she saw Frenzical's glowing hands. "F-Frenzical? Are you? How?"

Frenzical lifted his hands, still glowing, up to his face, staring at the light emanating from them.

"I don't know," the Shadow Priest answered. "I put all my heart into that prayer, but I honestly didn't think it would work – but it did."

{That's impossible!} Bitey shouted. {You're undead! You're not supposed to be able to do that.}

Frenzical looked down at Serendipixie, absolutely flabbergasted.

"I know," he said, acknowledging Bitey's comment. "But it happened. I used the Light."

* * *

*Author's Note: I took some artistic license regarding Forsaken Priests and their ability to use the light here in order to tell the story I want to tell. This is mostly inspired by the fact that parts of Warcraft Lore says that Forsaken Priests cannot use the Light, and instead turn to it's dark twin the Shadow. Blizzard's official explanation is that to use the Light or to be healed by the Light is a painful process for the Forsaken involved, so it involves an incredible amount of willpower, making Holy Forsaken Priests exceedingly rare in terms of lore, the fact that a player controlled character can use Holy based spells is a gameplay mechanic. If someone plays an Undead Holy Priest on a regular basis, Blizzard would argue that your character is suffering nobly in order to heal the group (likewise if the character is a tank being healed by a Holy spell), or that they they're so screwed up that they enjoy the pain. Going back to this story, Frenzical used the Light without discomfort, despite being in a state of exhaustion – which is a mystery that will unfold as the story progresses.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Liostutch awoke to the feeling of sand brushing against his face. He felt like he'd taken a centaur kick to the head. Slowly his eyes began to open. Before him lay a coastline with light waves lapping at a sandy beach. For a moment it looked beautiful, until a piece of broken timber was washed ashore – then it all came flooding back.

The _Sea Grub_, it had to have sunk. Not even a ship Oller had built could have stayed afloat after taking a hit like that. At this moment all of his friends' fates were a mystery. He could only be sure of the survival of Frenzical and Sadjinn. True death was not impossible for an undead. Their bodies could have been ripped to shreds on the same rock that had finished the _Sea Grub._ Not even one that was already dead could have withstood that. Of course, Liostutch had more faith in his two companions to think that was a possibility. Of course, their survival did not guarantee they were not lost forever. And Pixie – poor Pixie, she couldn't have survived. No, he'd seen the Blood Elf recover from worse, and Jennessa had been trying to get her to the surface. She had to have survived. Thinking of the loyal Hawkstrider, made the Warrior think of his own mount. If George was alive, he was not here, or else the raptor would have been prodding him awake.

Despite the throbbing in his head and the protests of his body, Liostutch forced himself back into the waking world. As he did, he noticed his left hand was particularly sore. In it, even in his semi-conscious state, he was gripping the hilt of _Lichbane_, the ax he always wielded in his left, and dominant hand. He took small comfort in the fact that he had not lost his weapons. The second ax, _Dragonscourge_, was strapped to his back.

_Lichbane'_s blade lay embedded in a large chunk of the _Sea Grub_ – a piece of wood that would have been large enough to keep the tauren, a suit of armour, and two axes afloat for some time.

Liostutch chuckled. He had no memory of the action, which had surely saved him from drowning. He surmised he had done it when he was still unconscious. It hadn't been the first time something like this had happened. The Survival Dream, his old mentor Donomi had called it. It was a rare trait, in which a Warrior, even when unconscious, could act out of instinct to perform an action that would save their lives. Usually it involved only one last desperate act, moments after being knocked unconscious. The it usually involved final swing of the one's weapon to fell an opponent. Donomi once said he had slain over a dozen Quilboar during an afternoon nap. The old tauren did tend to exaggerate.

Liostutch gave a heave of his arm, and freed the axe from the wood. Despite his exhaustion, and how deep the blade had sunk into the wood, the action was effortless. _Lichbane _had been reforged from the remains of Liostutch's dear friend Drannosh Saurfang's armour. It was as reliable as the orc had once been. There was a legend that if an enemy wielded the ax against its master the blade would refuse to cut him.

The tauren Warrior lifted his head and took in his surroundings. He was on a beach surrounded on all sides, save the coast, by steep cliffs. Liostutch surmised that, if he rested, it would take an hour or so to climb them. Atop the cliffs was an assortment of plant life Liostutch had never seen before. The Warrior was no Herbalist, but he could tell they were tropical, and most certainly unfamiliar.

More mysteriously, as he gazed over the ocean, he could see a layer of mist. Except…they didn't look natural. He was no shaman of course, but he knew enough about the weather to know that when it was this sunny out, mists that thick did not look right. Liostutch lifted his nose and took a breath of air into his nostrils. It didn't even smell familiar. Where was he?

The Warrior suddenly felt a cold chill, an unnatural chill, one that had nothing to do with how uneasy he felt. It was as if death itself had churned up a breeze. At first he thought it might have something to do with the mists, then the water before him began to freeze into a thin trail, and he suddenly realized how familiar that chill felt.

Liostutch smiled as a feeling of relief washed over him. It had been the best news he had gotten all day. He knew the source of the cold before the shadowy figure even emerged from the fog, stepping over the newly frozen water as casually as one might walk down a well traveled path.

"Tabi!" Liostutch said. "I don't think I've ever been so happy to see you."

Sadjinn grunted and frowned, as he approached the shoreline.

"I told you not to call me that," he said. "Tabikub is dead."

"It's your name," Liostutch said, placing an affectionate hand on the Death Knight's shoulder. "But I'm sorry. I was just happy to see you alive – so to speak. Sadjinn it is."

Sadjinn snorted. "And you too brother. I fear the _Sea Grub_ may be lost to us. Did you see its end?"

Liostutch shook his head. "No, I was in the stables when it hit something. The hole was large enough to sweep me into the ocean. I have no idea what happened after that. I doubt Oller, even with a crew of goblins would have been able to salvage it. You were on it when it sank though?"

Sadjinn too shook his head. "I was caught unaware and thrown into the ocean before then. There is no doubt in my mind it has however. You know of my ability to sense death?"

Liostutch nodded. "Yeah, the Death Knight thing."

"Well, it was strong on the seas tonight."

"Can you tell who-"

"No," Sadjinn interrupted. "The feeling is vaguer than that. I simply sensed dozens of souls flicker out. It may have been our friends; it may have been Oller's goblins. I can simply surmise by the numbers that the ship was lost."

Liostutch sighed, and pretended to be fascinated with his hooves.

"I made my way back to the surface," Sadjinn said. "I caught sight of land. I was going off in a different direction, when I caught movement in this cove, and thought to investigate."

"I'm glad you did brother," Liostutch said. "I wasn't looking forward to exploring – wherever we are, alone."

Sadjinn looked up, examining the tops of the cliffs. "It is certainly nowhere we, or any member of the Horde, or even the Alliance, have been before. It makes me feel…"

"Uneasy, I know," Liostutch said. "But sitting here in this cove isn't going to get us anywhere. We should be moving. Maybe we can find the others."

Sadjinn snorted in agreement. "Let's be off then."

It took a little over an hour for the pair to scale the majority of the cliff face. Tauren's, being natural plain dwellers, were typically poor climbers. However, the pair had spent enough time in the mountainous regions of Northrend to have become skilled enough at it that this small cliff was no feat.

Liostutch stabbed his mining pick into the side of the cliff just above him, and combining that makeshift handhold with a natural one, he pulled himself higher along the cliff.

"You probably could have used Path of the Frost," the Warrior said to his brother.

Sadjinn gave his brother a confused look.

"Instead of climbing," Liostutch answered. "There's probably easier access to this new land somewhere else along the coast."

Sadjinn grunted. "Perhaps. And where would that leave you?"

"Climbing, I suppose," I Liostutch said. "I don't think I could swim those waters, the current's too strong, and I could get lost in the mist. Even if followed your path…"

"It would melt under the heat of the living," Sadjinn answered. "Our only choice, were I to do that would be for us to split up. I do not much care for the idea of leaving you alone. Besides…." Sadjinn reached up, and where he held his hand, an icicle handheld grew out of the cliff face. Sadjinn grabbed hold of it and pulled himself up, and shot Liostutch a cocky grin. "Climbing is not so difficult."

Liostutch smiled. "Don't want to leave me alone?" he said, feigning surprise. "That's a welcome change from the last times we were mountain climbing."

Sadjinn snorted at the memory. "I would not call _this…_" he said motioning at the cliff face. "…much of a mountain. Especially compared to the Storm Peaks."

"You tried to kill me," Liostutch spoke with no hint of grudge in his voice. He was simply stating a fact.

Sadjinn snorted again. "I was…foolish. Arthas had manipulated my petty feelings to serve his own ends."

"Hmm," Liostutch said thoughtfully. He yanked his pick out of the cliff, replaced it on a hook on his belt, and lifted himself up using a natural handhold. "Weren't you free of the Lich King's influence by that point?"

Sadjinn reached upwards towards his own handhold. "Yes, but not his…" the handhold was too small. He brought his fist down on it. Now it was large enough. He continued his ascent. "…taint. I had my will back, but I still blamed you for my newly acquired…" Sadjinn paused for a moment, trying to find the right words. "…state of being. I knew that Arthas had betrayed me, but I still felt there was truth in what he had used to corrupt me. I still desired vengeance."

Liostutch turned his head to face his brother. "But you don't now?"

"No," Sadjinn said, not ceasing to look away from the top of the cliff. "I don't. I would have hoped I had proven that by now."

"You have," Liostutch said with a chuckle. "I just wanted to hear you say it. Solidify where we stand."

"You're a very skilled Warrior Liostutch," Sadjinn said. "You have a natural talent any tauren would die for – I did."

Liostutch felt taken aback by that last comment. Sadjinn had not spoken out of bitterness or jealously, like he may have only a few years ago. Instead his voice was filled withregret and sadness.

Sadjinn reached the top of the cliff first. Liostutch began to close the gap. Sadjinn pulled himself over the edge, then bent over and reached out a hand for Liostutch to take.

"For a time I resented that skill," Sadjinn said, as Liostutch grasped the Death Knight's hand with both of his own. Sadjinn was now bearing the entirety of his brother's weight. "But that time has passed. I see now that your achievements are not my failings. You have no reason to worry about 'where we stand.' If you did – I'd let go."

Liostutch's eyes widened in surprised. He hadn't realized he had placed himself at the mercy of his brother. He had not even thought about it. The Death Knight was right. If he wished, he could send Liostutch tumbling to his death simply by releasing his hand, and, for the briefest of moments, Liostutch thought his brother might do just that. A few years ago Sadjinn would not have hesitated. However, things had changed a lot since then. His brother simply smiled, and pulled Liostutch up.

"I thought -" Liostutch started.

Sadjinn clapped his brother on his armoured shoulder. "You're the one always telling me to lighten up brother. You and that Forsaken. The days in which we are enemies are at an end."

Liostutch smiled in response, and turned to face the dense looking tropical jungle. However, they were only given a moment to admire the foliage. Both taurens' honed instincts twitched at the sound of footsteps – bipedal, thus most likely sapient, possibly aggressive. Both Warriors dove for cover, a difficult task for a tauren, but the trees here were large, and the pair were able to find a single tree that covered both of their bulk.

The source of the sound was not difficult to spot. Two figures quickly came into view. They were no race Liostutch had ever seen. They were green, reptilian and walked upright, though were slightly hunched, like a worgen, and like most sapient races they possessed two arms and two legs. Though both creatures carried weapons, they also possessed natural weapons – a set of strong looking reptilian jaws, and deadly claws on both their hands and feet. For defense they had a set on spikes that ran along the top of their head, down the back of their neck, and all the way down their back to the tip of their lizard like tail.

Liostutch and Sadjinn exchanged a look.

"What are they?" Sadjinn said quietly enough so that the creatures could not here.

Liostutch shrugged. "Some breed of Drakonid?"

Sadjinn shook his head. "No, these creatures are cannot possibly share any kinship with dragons. They appear to be mortal, and very savage.

Liostutch agreed. The creatures wore no clothing short of a loincloth, and even their weapons were nothing more than primitive spears.

"Me sick of searching for Salys," one of the lizard-men said. "He not worth all trouble."

"You careful saying those things," the other lizard creature said. "He chief son."

"Bah! Salys fool. Tribe better off without him. He be even bigger fool ever since meeting with bone lady. Acting very strange."

"No matter. Chief say find son. We find."

Again Liostutch and Sadjinn looked at each other with concern.

"Bone lady?" Liostutch said. "Does Sylvannas –"

Liostutch's words were cut off by an ear-piercing shriek. Liostutch caught movement out of the corner of his eye just in time to react. A third lizard creature leapt from one of the branches above. The tauren Warrior shielded himself with the handle of his axe, just as the creature came upon him. The lizard's jaw's, which had been intended for Liostutch's throat, clamped tight onto the handle of _Lichbane_. The handle also managed to stop the creature's arm claws, while its foot claws clawed furiously at Liostutch's breast plate. Despite being almost twice the lizard's size, Liostutch had to brace the ax with both hands to keep the creature off of him, and even then as the creature pushed forward Liostutch could feel himself losing ground. The creature fought with a mindless intensity the Warrior had not seen since…but no, that was impossible. If only he could reach _Dragonscourge _he could -

_Armageddon_ cleaved with no mercy. It took only a single swipe of Sadjinn's mighty runeblade and the creature was in two pieces. The lizard's lower legs and torso fell to the ground. However, to Liostutch's surprise, the creature did not seem too distressed at the loss at the lower half. Still gripping _Lichbane_ in its claws it turned and let out an angry shriek. That was enough of a distraction for Liostutch. He released his grip of _Lichbane_ with his right and retrieved _Dragonscourge_ from his back. Seconds later he drove the blade of the oversized ax into the lizard's skull. Only then did its body go limp as it fell to the ground.

The pair's victory, however, was short lived. A similar, but somehow even more deafening shriek split the taurens' ears. Liostutch looked in the direction of the original two lizard-men, where the sound had come from. One glared angrily at the two tauren, while the other had extended a frill around his neck and was shrieking madly. Liostutch knew little of these creatures, but he knew he had heard enough war horn blows to know what the shriek had meant. The lizard-man was calling for help.

"Yaungol invaders," the non-shrieking yelled, pointing a claw in Liostutch and Sadjinn's direction. "Invader's on Saurok land!"

"What-gol?" Liostutch said. He had no idea what a "Yaungol" was, but he surmised that "Saurok" was what these lizard creatures called themselves.

The shrieking Saurok continued to do so, while his companion pointed his spear forward and charged. Sadjinn smiled an evil grin. The Saurok had made a critical error. You never charged a tauren. Especially an undead tauren.

Sadjinn confidently sheathed his runeblade. He tossed some dust aside with his hoof and charged, horns forward.

Just a few feet before they met, the Saurok leaped into the air, hoping to use its superior agility to counter Sadjinn's brute force. It came down with its spear pointed at the Death Knight's head. Seconds before Sadjinn would have been impaled, his hand shot up and seized the Saurok by the throat. The lizard didn't even have time to attempt to wriggle free before Sadjinn slammed him, with all the strength of a tauren, into a nearby tree. The Death Knight released the lifeless Saurok, and its body crumpled to the ground.

The second Saurok, who had finally stopped shrieking, decided he was outmatched, and made a run for it.

Liostutch was already pursuing him, dual axes drawn. Sadjinn was not far behind. The lizard proved difficult to pursue. Not only was he naturally more agile than the pair of tauren, he was clearly more familiar with the terrain.

Liostutch and Sadjinn eventually emerged into a small clearing, and for a moment it appeared as if the Saurok might disappear into a grouping of foliage on the opposite side of the clearing.

"Enough of this!" Sadjinn yelled.

He raised a single hand, and shot a coil of purple energy from his palm. The unholy energy shot towards the retreating Saurok, and wrapped itself around the lizard's waist. Sadjinn yanked his hand back, pulling the Saurok back with it. It was sent flying backwards, landing in an ungraceful heap at the taurens' feet. Sadjinn was already gripping Armageddon, pulling the runeblade from its sheath.

"Tabi wait!" Liostutch yelled.

It was too late. The Death Knight's blade struck! Severing the Saurok's head with a single swing. Liostutch let out an exasperated sigh.

"Did you have to do that?" the Warrior asked.

"Would there have been anything to gain in sparing his life?" Sadjinn asked.

"Information," Liostutch said. "We still have no idea where we are."

Sadjinn snorted. "And you think a single lizard-man savage would have been able to supply that information?"

"It would have been a start," Liostutch said. "But I guess we'll never know now."

Suddenly, a loud whistle pierced the air. Liostutch managed to step aside just as a spear embedded itself into the ground where he had once been standing.

"Only thing, you be knowing is death. Yaungol invaders!" A slithery voice said.

Liostutch searched in the direction of the voice. What he saw made his blood run cold. Dozens of Saurok were perched in the trees surrounding the clearing. Most of which were pointing bows notched and aimed at the pair of tauren. Dozens more emerged emerged from the foliage into the edges of the clearing. All with spears or stone axes in hand.

"Cold blooded slime," Sadjinn spat. "He wasn't retreating. He was leading us into a trap."

A single Saurok shrieked something in a language Liostutch did not understand. He didn't need to. He was a warrior, he knew a battle cry when he heard one. The Saurok immediately descended. Dozens of them pouring in on the two tauren.

Liostutch's axes cleaved the air, cutting down the first three Saurok to come within range. Sadjinn's runeblade, found a home in a Saurok's gut, before he yanked it free and turned two more Sauroks into four half Sauroks. Wooden spears snapped as they clashed against Liostutch's Elementium armour. He returned the favor by removing their owners' heads.

A rain of arrows were released. Sadjinn put himself between them and his brother, swiping his hand in an arc over their heads. A temporary shield of ice materialized, blocking the arrows' path, and they bounced harmlessly away. That is until the second volley was launched. Most of them were destroyed upon crashing into the ice, but a half dozen or so crashed through the shield, which had been weakened by the first volley. The taurens managed to block or avoid most of the arrows, but a few found homes in the gaps in Sadjinn's aromour. However, they were but toothpicks in the Death's Knight's rotting flesh. He yanked them out out with a single pull and dug them into the skulls of the next Saurok who came too close.

Four more Saurok fell before the army of lizard-men rethought their strategy. Liostutch heard a command being given in the creatures' native tongue and the group formed a perimeter around the tauren, spears pointed forward.

"You Yaungol good fighters," one Saurok said, stepping out from the group.

The warpaint adorning his scales was slightly more colourful than the other Saurok. Liostutch guessed he was some sort of leader.

"For that we give you special chance. Lay down weapons. Surrender. Become Treescale prisoners, and answer for crimes. Do that, or you die now. I let soldiers eat you alive. Very painful."

Sadjinn gritted his teeth and growled.

"You'll choke on me before I-"

"No Tabi," he said. "I think we should -"

"You must be mad!" Sadjinn snapped. "I'd rather die than surrender to a bunch of cold-blooded-"

"You're one to talk about being cold-blooded," Liostutch said. "Do you not see the situation we're in? There are too many. Sure we might take a dozen or so down, but eventually we'd be overwhelmed. Remember what Donomi taught us: 'Sometimes it is best to swallow your pride and accept the value of surrender.' We can fight another day."

"Don't quote our teacher to me, brother." Sadjinn spat. "I paid more attention to his lessons than you ever did."

"Then listen to them," Liostutch said. "Lay down your sword."

"How dare you!"

"Just listen to your older brother for once in your life."

"Older? By two minutes – but – aaaaargh." Sadjinn yelled in frustration, but finally he allowed his arms to fall to his side. Relaxing his grip on Armageddon, it clattered to the ground.

Liostutch did the same, and Lichbane and Dragonscourge soon joined the runeblade.

The Saurok leader erupted in a cackle of victory. He made a single motion to his army with his claw, and the pair of tauren were immediately engulfed in a swarm of Saurok.

* * *

"Do you want to talk about it?" Serendipixie asked.

"Not really," Frenzical answered, staring blankly ahead.

"Are you sure?" Pixie asked again. "Because it's kind of a big deal."

"Gee ya' think?" Frenzical snapped, turning angrily to face Pixie atop her mount. "An undead, the very emodiment of the unholy manipulating the Light to cast a holy spell a big deal? I never would have thought!"

"I – I'm sorry," Pixie stuttered. "It's just – it's really important we figure out what happened back there. What you did. It shouldn't -"

"I know! It shouldn't be physically possible. Yet here you are, alive. I know it means there's something going on with me, with you, or maybe the Light and Shadow as a whole, and those are questions we need answers for, but can't – can't it wait just a little while. Can't we just walk? Walk and be silent?"

Pixie swallowed. She normally wouldn't have allowed anyone to talk to her like that. However, she was so caught off guard that it had been Frenzi, that she didn't feel she had it in her. Besides, Frenzical desiring silence was almost as disturbing as a Forsaken being able to use the Light. Frenzical was rarely this serious. She decided that, at least for now, it would be best to just let the subject drop.

They had been traveling for some time now. After Pixie had some time to recover, Frenzical had used another levitation spell to travel across the remaining stretch of ocean to the shoreline. There, they had rested awhile, and began a search for their lost guild-mates. They'd found nothing. After several hours of fruitless searching, they made the decision to move further inland, so they might find out where they were, and perhaps find a way to contact the Horde and conduct a proper search. That is, if Hellscream could take his mind off his war with the Alliance to spare a single ship.

Their search inland only proved less successful. None of the local flora or fauna looked familiar. In fact it all looked entirely alien. Both undead and Blood Elf simply found themselves traipsing through the jungle. Serenedipixie atop Jennessa, while Frenzical elected to travel on foot. He thought it worked to highlight the crabby mood Pixie had just put him in anyway.

{Don't you think you were a little harsh?} Bitey asked.

{I think she's concerned for you.} Chewy added.

"Not now guys," Frenzical said, pushing a giant jungle leaf aside. "Just...not now."

{He's in a grouchy mood.} Bitey said.

{Eh, let him stew, he doesn't get like that very often.} Chewy replied.

{I don't know what his problem is.} Bitey said. {He just did something pretty amazing. I'd be gloating.}

{Are you stupid?} Chewy scolded. {Don't you remember what we all learned on that epic journey we went on? About his life?}

{What does that have to do with him using the – oooooh! Wow! No wonder he's upset.}

{Yes, so stop talking, and let him be – Aaaaahh!.}

Frenzical shook his head as hard as he could.

"I said NOT NOW!" he yelled.

The maggots stayed silent.

Both Pixie and Jennessa stopped moving and stared blankly at the Forsaken Priest. Frenzical looked backed and shrugged.

"Maggots," Frenzical said, pointing to his head. "Being a little noisy."

Pixie stared blankly in response.

"Mmmhmm," she said, prodding her mount forward.

The pair pushed forward. They traveled for half an hour or so before they came to a strip of land where the dense concentration of trees and bushes had been cleared away. The floor of the strip was paved with uneven stones.

"Is this what I think it is?" Pixie said looking down at the stones.

Frenzical stomped his foot on the ground.

"If you think it's a cobblestone road, then I'd say yes," he said.

"And judging by those cart marks," Serendipixie said. "It's a commonly used road too."

"You think if we follow it, we'll find civilization?" Frenzical asked.

"Commonly used roads typically lead somewhere," Pixie said. "But we should still proceed with caution. We weren't sailing anywhere near Horde territory. Granted, we weren't anywhere near Alliance territory either, but you never know. We have no idea how hostile the natives are."

Frenzical nodded. "Agreed."

Pixie raised a suspicious eyebrow at the undead. "Are you sure you're alright? You're never eager to be cautious."

Frenzical sighed, which took some effort for a creature that no longer drew breath.

"I'm fine," he said. "Can we just go?"

Pixie nodded, and prodded Jennessa forward.

They traveled for several hours, and slowly, the jungle began to thin out slightly, eventually leading them to a massive cliff face. Fortunately, the road led them to a winding trail that traveled through a combination of tunnels and ledges that looked like it led to the top of the cliff. The path was precarious, but relatively easy to travel, and they reached the top with no incident. As they reached the top, they found themselves standing at the top of a gentle hill, which along with the cliff formed the lip of an enormous valley. It was so large that fields of various crops could be seen. From their current position the valley appeared to have no end. In their immediate vicinity – at the bottom of hill, was what appeared to be a small village, surrounded by vegetable fields.

"Looks peaceful enough," Frenzical said. "Shall we take a look?"

"I suppose," Pixie replied. "We should still be careful though."

Frenzical shrugged. "It's just a farming village. Farmers aren't exactly known for their aggressiveness."

"Put your hood up at least," Pixie said.

"Sickly human disguise it is," Frenzical said, pulling the hood of his robe over his head so it covered his face .

The pair moved forward, following the road down the hill. As they grew closer to the village, Frenzical began to notice something odd about it. The architecture of the structures looked like nothing he had ever seen, within either the Horde or Alliance. Yet is was still somehow...familiar. In fact, as they grew ever closer, he was beginning to believe Pixie was right to be cautious, especially when he caught his first glimpse of one of the village residents. It was a black and white bear-like creature that walked on two legs.

"Are those furblogs?" Frenzical asked.

"I don't think so," Pixie said. "They look more civilized. Furblogs are more...well..."

"Savage?" Frenzical asked. "More hunch-backy?"

"I was going to say something less offensive, but yes, I did mean something like that."

"Wait a moment," Frenzical said, squinting his orbs at the now several village residents that had emerged from their homes. There was something about them that looked vaguely familiar.

Suddenly, he remembered! Frenzical's orbs shot wide open. He remembered! He actually remembered!

"I know what those are!" Frenzical yelled pointing a bony finger at the bear-people. "But that's impossible!"

"What? You know?" Pixie said. "How do you -"

Too late. Frenzical had taken off towards the village, and not even making an attempt to hide himself.

Several of the bear-people had already noticed him and were gesturing with alarm.

"Frenzi wait!" Pixie yelled at her Forsaken companion.

It was no good, there was no stopping Frenzical when he was overtaken by enthusiasm like this. She gave Jennessa a nudge, urging her to pursue the undead, but Frenzical was too fast, even for the fleet-footed hawkstrider. He must have been artificially boosting his speed somehow with the Shadow. Serendipixie knew of no such spell, but Frenzical was always pulling some obscure spell out of his pocket that no other Priest had ever heard of. A spell that increased speed would be one of the least strange things she'd seen him do.

Frenzical didn't stop running when he reached the edge of the village. He only slowed down momentarily to observe the bear-people, then ran to the next one, before finally stopping in the middle of the road, several hundred yards into the village.

Pixie swallowed as she noticed that during Frenzical's run, the undead's hood had fallen back, fully revealing his pale corpse face.

The bear-people villagers had all begun to emerge from their homes, drawn out by the spectacle of a human corpse running down the street, pursued by an elf riding a giant bird.

"I can't believe this," Frenzical said with a child-like grin of glee on his face. As child-like as an undead could get anyway. "Pandaren!"

"What-daren?" Pixie said.

"They're Pandaren," Frenzical said. "My mother used to tell me bed time stories about them when I was a kid, but I never thought they were actually real."

Pixie had never heard of such creatures. However, as much as the creatures of human mythos turning out to truly exist amazed her, she could only deal with one surprise at a time.

"Your mother?" Pixie said. "But I thought you didn't remember anything about your life."

Frenzical dropped his arms, and his orbs went wide with realization.

"I-I don't – well, until just now anyway. I saw the Pandaren – and suddenly, I remembered. I saw me – alive, as a little boy, and my mother telling me about the Pandaren in the mystical continent of Pandaria. I – I remembered my life. I've never done that before."

Frenzical looked up at Serendipixie, and for the first time since the Blood Elf had known him, he looked scared and helpless.

"What's happening to me Pixie?"

"I don't know," Pixie said. "But I'm not sure this is the time we should be trying to figure it out."

Pixie motioned to their surroundings. They had attracted a lot of attention. Dozens of the creatures Frenzical had called Pandaren had come out onto the road, surrounding them, staring and whispering.

"Well," Frenzical said. "Looks like we've got some 'splaining to do."

* * *

"Land-ho!" Taz Torqhammer, one of the surviving goblins, who had taken it upon himself to take charge of the other surviving goblins, yelled.

He pointed to a strip of land straight ahead. Oller flipped a switch on his mechanized goggles, activating one of its dozens of features. In this case, dual telescopes. The goggles extended from Oller's eyes, giving Oller a look at the strip of land. The goggles buzzed and whirred as the lens focused. Oller was able to spot a beachhead framed by a jungle.

"I see a spot to land," Oller said. "Let's bring 'er in."

The orc hunter-engineer, twisted the throttle and the raft's motor roared louder as the it picked up speed towards land.

The group traveled towards land for ten minutes before Hel, alert in an instant, leaped to one side of the raft and began barking furiously.

"What's with the mutt?" one of the goblins asked.

"Call him a mutt again and it'll be indigestion from eating too much goblin," Oller said. "But until then, he appears to have caught a whiff a' somethun."

"Could it be anudder survivah?" Grapefruit asked.

"I'd bet not," Oller said. "Hel here seems a little too agitated for that." I'm guessing it's something he finds unfamilar."

Oller flipped on his goggle's telescopes and looked in the direction Hel was barking. He spotted something in the distance splashing frantically in the water. He focused the lenses on that spot. It was difficult to tell with the splashing, but whatever was there, it was clearly in danger of drowning.

"Hold on troll, dog, and goblins," Oller said. He turned the motor, and pointed the raft at the struggling – whatever it was. "We're going in for a closer look."

Oller kept a close eye on the splashing, but still found it difficult to identify the nature of whoever, or whatever was drowning, even with his goggles. It turned out to be Torqhammer with an old fashioned telescope that clued him in.

"Holy gear sparks!" Torqhammer exclaimed. "That's a Nerubian!"

_A Nerubian?_ Oller thought. _This far south? The goblin had to be mistaken. _

After a few adjustments of his goggles, Oller managed to spot several insect like limbs flailing about in the water. That however, did not mean the creature was one of the spider-like race of Northrend. In fact, the closer raft drew to the splashing, it began to look less like a Nerubian and more like – well, nothing the orc had ever seen before.

"Uh boss?" Torqhammer said. "Should we be getting so close? Nerubians aren't exactly friendly."

"Well good thing that ain't a Nerubian ain't it?" Oller said. "That look like a spider to you?"

"Well..." Torqhammer started.

"'Course it don't," Oller said. "Nerubians, like spiders, have eight limbs. I only count six on that thing."

"What is it then?" Torqhammer asked.

"How in Thrall's name should I know?" Oller snapped. "I look like some kind of Druid to you?"

"Then should we really be getting so close if we don't know what it is?" one of the other goblins asked.

"I'll be the son of a Gnome if I'll let a sentient creature drown before I know for sure that it's an enemy."

The goblin swallowed and nodded. "Yes sir."

A few moments later, Oller pulled the raft up next to the struggling creature. The goblins made sure to keep their distance from the edge of the raft.

"What are you waiting for ya cowards?" Oller said. "Help the poor thing into the raft."

The goblins were reluctant, but eventually mustered up the courage to lean over the edge, and together pulled the creature out of the water and into the raft. The creature, still shocked from its ordeal, flopped limply onto the raft floor, panting and frantically making odd clicking noises.

Now that Oller could see the insect creature close up, the orc could say one thing for sure. It was no Nerubian, or even a Sithilid. It was some sort of mantis-creature. It did indeed have six limbs. Its forelegs acted like arms, with long stick-like digits, forming a hand at the end. It appeared to walk upright on its back legs. It had a pair of limbs in the middle of it's torso, but they appeared to be vestigial, and curled up into its sides. Oller also spotted a pair of gossamer wings attached to the creature's thorax, currently bogged down with water and useless.

Suddenly the creature's giant compound eyes lit up, and it screeched with fear.

"Invaderzzzz!" It shrieked. "Lezzzer razzzezzz, Zzzpawn of uzzzurperzz."

The creature shot to it's feet, and desperately beat its wings. However, they were still drenched, and all he managed to accomplish was spraying the raft's occupants with water.

"I am zzzwarmborn! I will die before I become a prizzzoner!"

Failing his attempt to fly away, the mantis revealed that his middle arms were not so vestigial, as he uncurled and revealed two scythe-like blades, began swinging about in a panic.

"Calm down buddy," Oller said. "We ain't gonna hurt ya."

The mantis's head shot in Oller's direction.

"I need no help from the inferior!" the mantis shrieked.

It lunged for the orc, blades drawn.

With the speed only a hunter can muster, Oller snatched his rifle from his back. He had just finished loading it, when the mantis suddenly stumbled backwards. Grapefruit, stood to its side, her palm open, having just released a handful of some sort of spores in the creature's face. It began to cough hysterically, before collapsing face first into the raft.

Oller was concerned at first that the mantis's blades might puncture the raft, but as the creature lost consciousness, the blades appeared to instinctively retract.

"Nice one Grape," Oller said, returning his rifle to his back. "That poison?"

Grapefruit shook her head. "Tis only a sedative. Eel be sleepin' for sev'ral 'ours. Dere be more den violent means ta be incapacitatin' a foe."

"Course there is," Oller said. "Sorry I don't have a bag of magic seeds."

"Dey ain't be seeds, and dey ain't be magic," Grapefruit corrected. "Dey be just spores, and sum know-how."

"Well, can your know-how restrain him? Not for nuthin', I trust ya', but no member of the Horde has ever seen somethin', like this. Who knows how long this thing'll be out, and we're a mite low on rope."

"Ma know-how might not..." Grapefruit started.

She reached into one of her Herbalist pouches, and pulled out a handful of seeds, which she tossed at the mantis. Next the shaman waved her hands, said a quick chant, and the seeds instantly sprouted into several vines that ensnared the mantis effectively enough to restrain all six of its limbs.

"...but da spirit a` da wild does."

"Well, that's done then," Oller said. "Let's get this tub on dry land, shall we?"

"Er boss?" Torqhammer said. "Are you sure it's a good idea to keep it alive? I mean it tried to kill us without the slightest provocation."

"What'cha think we should do with'em then?" Oller asked with some barb to his voice. "Chuck'em back in the ocean to drown?"

Torqhammer shrugged. "Better him than us."

"That's how wars get started ya' idiot!" Oller snapped. "We discover a new race and the first thing ya' want to do is kill it? Haven't Wrynn and Hellscream done enough of that? Besides, on the more practical side. He may have some information on where exactly we are?"

"Well sure," Torqhammer said. "But shouldn't our instruments tell us that, surely you have a portable version of-"

"Course I do!" Oller interrupted, tapping his goggles. "Not as powerful as the one on the _Sea Grub_ mind you, but it works in a pinch. Problem is, the _Sea Grub's_ instruments failed us once we entered this accursed mist. How much ya' want to bet my tiny ones here will fail us too?"

Torqhammer and the rest of the goblins remained silent.

"Don't know about you, but I don't trust no navigational instruments in this mist. Besides, all cartography data says we should be sitting on top of a huge stretch of open water, without an island in sight. Yet right in front of us is a stretch of land that could be the size of a small continent for all we know. I'm thinking a local could be a useful source of information."

"Assuming he is a local," Torqhammer said bitterly.

"You want extra hazard pay for handling a dangerous creature or not?" Oller asked.

The goblins' ears all seemed to perk at the mention of extra gold.

"Well why didn't ya say so boss?" Torqhammer said.

The look on the other goblins seemed to eco that sentiment. They immediately got to work securing a place in the raft for the mantis as Oller fired up the raft's motor.

It took only about ten minutes to reach the shore, landing without incident. The goblins quickly got to work unloading the mantis from the raft.

"So? Where ya want this thing boss?" Torqhammer asked.

"For now.." Oller said as Grapefruit and Hell exited the raft. "...secure him to one of those jungle trees."

The raft now empty, Oller flipped a switch on the motor. The raft immediately deflated and its limp remains were sucked into a compartment in the motor. The motor then began to fold inwards into itself, until it was a clean little cube no larger than a gnome's fist. Oller gracefully snatched the cube out of the air as it finished its transformation, and stashed it in one of the many pouches on his belt.

From another pouch, Oller pulled out a second cube. This one was slightly larger. It was not one of Oller's inventions, but he often found it came in handy. Affixed to the cube was a label that read "Town in a box."

"You!" Oller said motioning to a random goblin. "While the others are doing that, you set this up."

Oller tossed the cube to the goblin, who clumsily, but successfully, managed to catch it.

"Once the town is set up, lock our bug friend up in one of the storage sheds – _very _securly. We'll need to interrogate him once he's awake." Oller turned his attention to Grapefruit. "You said he'd be out a few hours?"

"It be like you sayin`," Grapefruit said. "It be hard ta say. I be unfamiliar wit da creatures physiology. But, if it be like da Sitilid, or Narubian, it should be an 'our or two."

"Hmm," Oller said scratching his stubble. "Let's assume three quarters of an hour then. Should be enough time to gather supplies. Hel and I can hunt down some food. Do you think you can find fresh water Grape?"

Grapefruit gave a sly grin. "I be findin' it already."

The troll shaman, retrieved a leather flask attached to her belt, and began to wave her free hand. A few moments later a few droplets of water began to appear in the palm of her hand, which eventually collected into a small pool. The pool only continued to grow until enough had collected to fill the flask. Grapefruit uncorked the flask with her thumb, waved her hand and the water shot into it. She smiled and handed the flask to Oller.

"Impressive," Oller said taking a swig of the water. It was remarkably cool, and tasted fresher than any water he had ever drank. "You conjured that out of nothing?"

"A course not," Grapefruit said, looking almost offended. "I be no mage. 'Dis be da jungle. Da air be thick wit da stuff. I merely be askin' it ta take on a liquid form."

"Is there enough to quench the thirst of an orc, a troll, a dog, and a collection of goblins?"

"It be a jungle covered in mists. A' course dere be enough."

Oller took another quick swig, then poured some into his hand to offer to Hel, which the mastiff eagerly lapped up. He then returned the half full flask to Grapefruit.

"Can you make sure the goblins get plenty? They've been working hard, and they've been through a lot, they deserve it. I'll be back within the hour with a feast."

"A' course." Grapefruit said. "It be only takin' a few minutes, so if you be needin'."

Oller promptly raised his hand. Interrupting the shaman.

"No need," he said. "I hunt better alone."

Hel suddenly let out a shrill bark of protest.

"With the exception of Hel here a` course," Oller said, scratching his companion behind the ear.

Oller turned to the jungle. However, before he was gone, Grapefruit's voice stopped him.

"Orc!" she said. "I be appreciatin' you askin', not orderin'."

Oller shrugged. "We're not on the_Sea Grub _anymore missy. I'm not captain of this beach, and I'm not payin' ya like I am the goblins. I've no right to order ya' to do anything."

Grapefruit only nodded in response. Oller nodded back, and he and Hel disappeared, like only a hunter and his pet could, into the the jungle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Liostutch groggily returned to the waking world. The last thing he remembered was being knocked unconscious by a blunt Saurok weapon. Based on the size of the shadows being cast by the trees, he guessed he couldn't have been out more than an hour.

Liostutch was in a horizontal position. His arms and legs were bound to a stick above his head, and he was being carried through dense jungle. There were six Saurok carrying his stick, three on either side. Just ahead, Sadjinn was similarly bound, also being carried by six Saurok. They were flanked by four Saurok, each of which pointed spears at their prisoners should they attempt to escape. Six other Saurok carried the twins' weapons. Each had been forged for tauren use, so it took two Saurok to carry each one. There were two additional Saurok in the party. One led all the others, and another brought up the rear. This of course only made up the ground party. Liostutch caught sight of several dozen more flitting through treetops.

The tauren warrior pulled against his bonds, testing their strength. They were ordinary vines. The spear-carrying Saurok immediately tensed up, pushing their spears forward a few inches. The vines were something your average male tauren could easily break. However, the guards needn't have bothered. The vines were unnaturally strong. Liostutch sensed the familiar resistance of shamanistic magic bolstering them.

"Sadjinn," Liostutch said to his brother in Taurahe, the language of the tauren. The Saurok appeared to speak broken Common. Liostutch guessed they would be unable to understand the tauren language. "I don't suppose your frost powers can overcome these bonds."

"They can," Sadjinn answered. "But they are unable to overpower an army of lizard-people, and still save your hide."

"We'll wait then," Liostutch said.

"Well don't wait too long," Sadjinn said. "It turns out that insane lizard – the first one that attacked us. The one whose skull you buried your ax in, was their chief's son. I don't suspect that is an offense they will tolerate lightly."

"We need an opportunity," Liostutch said. "I'm trusting your judgment to- oooph."

Liostutch was cut off as a spear-butt conked him on the head.

"Yaungol think we stupid?" the offending Saurok said. "Speak yak-people language. Keep secrets. Prisoners be quiet!"

"Our words will be the least of your worries you cold-blooded snakes." Sadjinn said, before getting hit on the head with a spear-butt.

They continued to walk for a few hours before arriving in a clearing. Set up in a clearing were a cluster of huts. Many of the huts were erected using the bones and skins of some sort of creature Liostutch did not recognize. From the looks of things, the Saurok appeared to be a very primitive race. They reminded Liostutch of Furblogs, or some of the more primitive tribes of trolls.

The party came to a halt in front of one of the larger huts. Many of the village's residents had already begun to gather. The Saurok carrying the pair of tauren propped them up vertically in front of the large hut, digging the bottom of the sticks into the ground. The guards stepped away, but continued pointing their spears at their prisoners.

"You answer to chief now," one of the Saurok said, prodding Liostutch with his spear tip. "He not happy. Good show for Treescale."

A few moments later, a Saurok slowly emerged from the large hut that lay before them. This particular Saurok was larger than the others – probably weighing in at the size of a large orc, or a small tauren. The majority of his scales were painted white, and all of his back spikes were pierced with animal bones. At least Liostutch hoped they were animal bones.

The large Saurok's neck frill, which most of the other Saurok kept retracted, was spread out, and painted with ornate symbols Liostutch could only guess the meaning of. The Saurok chief, Liostutch presumed.

The chief approached the two tauren, bringing his face inches away from Liostutch's own. He stepped away, and turned to one of the Saurok.

"These invaders?" he asked.

The Saurok the chief had addressed nodded nervously. "Yes, Lord Treescale."

The chief – Lord Treescale – turned to the tauren and laughed.

"Treescale soldiers say you Yaungol Invaders. Tresspass on Treescale land. Now that Lord Treescale see you himself, Lord Treescale think soldiers stupid."

Liostutch raised a curious eyebrow, and the Saurok crowd began to mumble – save the soldiers who had escorted the two tauren into the village. They stayed completely silent.

"Any fool see you not Yaungol at all!" Lord Treescale said. "No, you something different. Something new."

"We never claimed to be these...Yaungol," Liostutch said. "We don't even know what they are."

"Course you not know," Lord Treescale said. "You clearly strangers to Pandaria. Strangers like Bone Lady."

"Bone Lady?" Liostuch said.

"You not need know about her. Lord Treescale not care if you strangers. Soldiers say you kill Lord Treescale son – Prince Salys. You deny this?"

"We don't," Liostutch answered. He saw no point in lying.

Lord Treescale growled, but other than that, showed no increased anger.

"You honourable murderers at least," Lord Treescale said. "Which one? Which stranger murder son?"

Sadjinn and Liostutch exchanged a look. Sadjinn had cut the Treescale Prince in half, which by all rights should have killed him, but Liostutch supposed that it had been himself who had landed the killing blow.

"That would be me," Liostutch said.

Lord Treescale growled again. It was clear that at this point the Saurok chief was showing great restraint, and only allowing bits of his anger out. He obviously wished to be raging.

"Then stranger be punished!" Lord Treescale shouted.

The Saurok leader stopped to think for a moment before speaking again.

"You not-Yaungol's look same. Not just because both are not-Yaungols. You share blood?"

Liostutch hesitated to answer, but for some reason, he thought he saw a reasonable mind in Lord Treescale. He had restrained his outrage afterall. Liostutch judged he had more to gain than lose by continuing to be truthful.

"He's my brother," Liostutch said.

Lord Treescale gave a nod, seeming satisfied with that answer. He shot one of his soldiers a look and extended his arm. The soldier tossed a spear at his chief, which Lord Treescale easily snatched out of the air. He raised the spear, and pointed it at Liostutch's chest.

"You kill my son, not-Yaungol. I kill your brother!"

Before Liostutch could protest, Treescale turned, lunged forward and, breaking through Sadjinn's armour, plunged the spear into his chest.

Liostutch instinctively began to cry out, but spotting the smirk on Sadjinn's face, quickly remembered why there was no need to be alarmed.

"Now you watch him die!" Lord Treescale yelled angrily.

The crowd of Saurok watching the spectacle unfold let out a cheer, and eagerly waited for the blood to pour out of Sadjinn's wound. However, the cheering quickly died out as seconds passed and no bodily fluids poured from the wound. Even Lord Treescale's eye widened in shock as Sadjinn burst out laughing.

"I'm afraid someone got there first you stupid reptile," the Death Knight spat.

Liostutch suppressed a laugh himself. Lord Treescale had thrust his spear into the same spot the Lich King had thrust Frostmourne years ago.

Sadjinn continued laughing as Lord Treescale pulled the spear free. Still no blood poured from the wound. Even the spear itself was relatively clean, with only bits of chilled tauren flesh stuck to it.

The Saurok spectators began whispering to one another in confusion. Lord Treescale however, had a look of sudden realization on his face.

"You be like _them_," the Saurok chieftain said. "Living, but not living."

"Like who?" Liostutch immediately spat out.

His hopes rose. If the Forsaken were here, he might find his way out of this mess.

Lord Treescale hesitated for a moment. However it looked like Liostutch's previous honesty had finally paid off, because the Saurok eventually chose to answer.

"Bone Lady and her soldiers," Lord Treescale answered. "They come on big ship."

"This Bone Lady..." Liostutch started. "What did she look like? Smaller than us? Thin pale complexion? Long pointy ears?"

Treescale looked at Liostutch curiously.

"Why not-Yaungol curious about not-dead people?"

"Answer my question, and I'll answer yours." Liostutch answered.

Treescale smirked slightly. "Not-Yaungol smart. Fine, Lord Treescale tell. Bone Lady look nothing like that. She big. Bigger than you. No skin at all. Just bones. Glowy purple bones. Big long robes that touch ground. Horns like goat on head. Big echo voice."

Liostutch's eyes went wide with fear. Lord Treescale had definitely not described Sylvanas.

"Impossible!" Sadjinn yelled.

"Treescale not lie! Watch tongue not-dead not-Yaungol, or you wish spear kill you."

Liostutch swallowed. The creature Lord Treescale had just described could only be a lich, which could only mean one thing - the Scourge.

* * *

Serendipixie took a long sip of tea. She wasn't sure what else to do. She sat awkwardly with Singh Honeypaw, the mayor of the village she and Frenzical had encountered. Once Pixie and Frenzical had established that they meant the village no harm, Singh and the other Pandaren villagers had been nothing but kind.

Singh had gone so far as to invite the pair to her home. There, Pixie and the old Pandaren sat on the mayor's porch drinking tea. It was a far more domestic setting than Pixie was used to.

The Blood Elf envied Frenzical. The Forsaken had at least found something to keep himself busy. A group of Pandaren children had gathered around him in a patch of grass not far from Singh's porch. The little bear children were bombarding the undead with questions.

"Are you really dead?" a little Pandaren boy asked.

"Sort of," Frenzical answered, not fazed at all by the tactless question. "I'm undead."

"What's that mean?" another child asked.

"It means I'm both," Frenzical answered. "But neither."

One of the little girls giggled. "That doesn't make sense."

"You know, I always thought that too," Frenzical said. "But that's what they tell me undead means. I think what it really means is – I'm dead, my heart doesn't beat, and my brain doesn't really...whatever it is a brain does when it's alive. I should be dead, but I still walk around like a living person."

One little boy pointed at Frenzical's face.

"Your eyes don't look like a living persons eyes."

"No," Frenzical said, still unfazed. "They don't. I think that's because, like a dead person, my body still rots, and eyes are tasty to things that eat dead stuff, so they got eaten before I woke up and became undead."

"Ewwwww," the children all said with a laugh.

"What are those glowy things then?" one child asked.

"They're like eyes," Frenzical answered. "Whatever magic makes me undead formed them so I could see."

"So, what do you do that alive people do?" another child asked.

"Do you eat?" asked another.

"Nope," Frenzical said. "Don't sleep either."

"Then what makes you go?"

Frenzical shrugged. "Magic I guess."

"Do you poop? Or pee?" one child asked, which warranted a giggle from all the others.

"Nope," Frenzical answered. "You only do that stuff if you eat."

"What about farts?"

A grin grew on Frenzical's face. "That I actually still do. Corpses have plenty of methane."

The children giggled, and one asked. "What's methane?"

"It's a gas," Frenzical answered. "It's what farts are made of. Here, let me show you."

A few moments later the Pandaren children's noses began to wrinkle in disgust.

"Ew!"

"Gross!"

"The dead guy farted!"

"That's awesome!"

The children delighted and disgusted at the same time jumped up and ran.

"Hey where are you going?" Frenzical said with an evil cackle. "Frenzical the fart monster is hungry for little children's noses!"

Frenzical began chasing the Pandaren children as they squealed and giggled with utter delight. Serendipixie was concerned their hosts might be offended by her companion's rude behaviour, but was promptly relieved as Sing began to laugh. Pixie returned the laugh with an embarrassed smile.

"I must say," Singh said. "Despite his appearance, your friend seems very agreeable to the children."

"Frenzical is – well, he's like a big child himself sometimes."

"So I see," Singh said. "Is that a result of his – uh...condition?"

"Undeath," Serendipixie answered. "And no, quite the contrary. It's a long story; our homeland was stricken with a plague. It quickly killed those affected. Not long after death, the afflicted would rise again as hollow shells of who they once were, slaves of a ruthless master who called himself the Lich King.

"The Lich King was dedicated to transforming all life on Azeroth into the undead. Frenzical belongs to a group of undead that managed to free themselves from the Lich King's control. Some regained their former personalities. Others were forever changed by the trauma of their own deaths, and what they had done under the Lich King's control."

"How terrible," Singh said. "And Frenzical? In which category does he fall under?"

"I don't know," Pixie answered. "He doesn't remember anything from his life. He was resurrected a blank slate. He went on a journey to attempt to learn about his past, and when he returned, he claimed he had discovered what he had been searching for. However, he refuses to speak of it. He keeps so little to himself, and has always proven to be trustworthy. I feel he deserves to keep this one secret."

Singh smiled warmly. "Of course. Whoever he was in life, he appears to be a very favourable soul in death."

Pixie chuckled to herself. "When he isn't driving us all crazy he certainly is."

"But tell me of this Lich King. Is he still attempting to destroy all life on Azeroth?"

Pixie shook her head and calmly took a sip of tea. "No. He was killed a few years ago, and his mindless minions have pulled back. What little remain of his Scourge of scattered and weak."

Singh nodded with understanding. "Very good, very good. Though there are still many questions. Pandaria has been cut off from the rest of Azeroth for so long. After the Sundering, one of our leaders had the continent enshrouded in mists to protect our Empire."

"That explains why you became creatures of myth," Pixie said. "It has been ten-thousand years since the Sundering. This continent...neither the Horde nor the Alliance has ever found it even though we`ve sailed these seas for many years. In that time never encountered an outsider before?"

Singh tapped her teacup nervously, but eventually answered.

"No. In fact many of us believed your kind, the elves, to be a myth – told to children as bedtime stories. I must say, you look different than how the stories described."

Pixie nodded. "Your stories most likely described Night Elves. I am a Blood Elf. My people are descended from a group of Night Elves that split from the main group."

"You see! We have missed so much," Singh said. "We had no idea any plague even existed. Let alone the existence of the human kingdom that was affected."

Pixie almost dropped her tea.

"I don't recall ever telling you that Frenzical was once human," she said. She positioned one hand over the dagger she kept at her side.

"Well, it's obvious isn't it? Death has changed him, but his features are certainly human."

Pixie's hand drew closer to her dagger, and her mind began going over defensive spells she should be prepared to use.

"But you just said the Pandaren have been cut off from Azeroth since the Sundering. How would you know what a human looks like?"

"The same way we know what elves look like of course." Singh answered.

Calmly but confidently, Pixie placed her teacup down.

"No. Humans are a young race. They did not exist before the Sundering."

"Ah, yes well you see-" Sing started.

Pixie held up her hand to silence her. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes fell to top of the hill. A trio of mounts and riders had just come over the crest of the hill. The mounts were horses, all of which were galloping towards them at a hurried pace.

The riders were unmistakably human. One bore the banner emblazoned with the Lion's Head crest of Stormwind.

Pixie shot up from her chair, dagger drawn. "You conniving little..."

"Please forgive me," Singh said. "They came shortly before you did. They warned me of your Horde. They claimed you were ruthless savages, and when I spotted the crest on your robes, I matched it with one of the symbols they showed me. I feared for the safety of the village. I sent for them immediately, but that was before I saw how truly kind you and your companion were. If I had known..."

Singh did seem genuinely regretful, and it was only because of this that Pixie withdrew her dagger.

"Frenzical!" Pixie yelled. "We're leaving. NOW!"

Frenzical was nowhere to be seen. He had disappeared behind the house somewhere, presumably still playing with the Pandaren children.

It was too late anyway. The trio of humans had already reached the house. The human that appeared to be in the lead removed a large hammer from his back. It began to glow.

_Fantastic_, Pixie thought. _A Paladin_.

"You're not going anywhere elf," the Paladin said.

Pixie's dagger began to glow with the power of the Light as well. She would have no choice then. She'd have to engage in combat with the Alliance.

* * *

Oller and Hel moved silently through the jungle as invisible as an orc and mastiff could be. The pair had hunted together for so many years that no verbal communication was necessary, only facial expressions and body language. Oller's rifle and goggles were no longer tools, but extensions of his body, which the orc operated as instinctively as his organic limbs and senses. Both were crafted with his own extensive engineering skill. Oller placed had as much heart into their creation as one could a machine.

Hel moved forward with determination, his nose furiously sniffing out a scent trail. He had been doing so for the past ten minutes, and by the way the canine was acting, Oller could tell they were closing in on their prey. Oller's goggles had a scent tracking feature, but this particular jungle was unfamiliar. There were a number of undiscovered scents that were confusing the sensors. In this case, as it often was, Hel's nose was far more reliable.

Hel finally came to a stop and pointed forward. Oller peered through the jungle foliage and spotted a particularly large stag, large enough to satisfy the hunger their entire party.

Oller was familiar with most type of game, but he had never seen a stag with these features. He peered through the scope of his rifle, and could confirm, at the very least that it was not a transformed druid.

Oller's thumb turned a dial on the rifle to select one of the many customized rounds stored within. In this case, it would be the bullets he had designed to be powerful enough to kill a large animal, but capable of slicing through it cleanly enough to make a painless kill without damaging the meat.

Still using the scope, the orc lined up his shot – one bullet between the eyes. Oller was just beginning to squeeze the trigger when Hel head butted his shin. Oller pulled the gun away, and gave his canine companion an angry glare.

Hel ignored his master, now pointing in a different direction. Whatever Hel had noticed, the stag seemed to have picked up on as well. Its head suddenly turned in the same direction before promptly dashing off. No sooner than it had, a hideous monstrosity came crashing through the jungle, knocking over whatever unlucky trees happened to be in its way. There was a hand haphazardly sewn onto the monster's back, which carried a machete that slashed at any plant life in its reach.

Oller immediately recognized the beast. It was large – at least nine feet tall – and bloated beyond recognition of whatever it had once been. Its name described it perfectly – Abomination, a monster made of many creatures that had been stitched together from a collection of body parts, then brought to life with dark magic. This one, like most Abominations, was bloated to the point that it was practically spherical. It had a bloated head, two legs, two enormous arms, and a third skinnier arm on its back. Forsaken were known to use them often. Before the incident at the Wrathgate they were a common site as guards of the Undercity. Since then they were typically only used as tools of war, ethically considered disposable due to their incredibly low intelligence. Even the dullest of ogres could claim to be geniuses compared to the brightest of Abominations.

Oller could only hope this particular Abomination was a tool of the Forsaken. He would hate to have to worry about the alternative. Of course that was impossible...wasn't it?

Oller ducked into some nearby bushes. He was not about to reveal himself until he could identify the Abomination's allegiance. Hel promptly followed.

The Abomination walked by, his path only ten feet away from Oller's hiding place. Fortunately the monster did not notice either orc or dog. Even if the pair weren't masters of stealth, the Abominations dull wits would have kept them hidden.

As the monstrosity drew closer, Oller noticed five more creatures, all clearly undead, following behind their bloated leader. Although these undead appeared to be made up of a single corpse each, Oller didn't recognize the creature they had been in life. They were some sort of bi-pedal lizard creature.

There was something strange about this group. Oller ruled out the possibility of their affiliation being that of the Forsaken. He knew of no new races being incorporated into their ranks. Could it be the Scourge?

Possible...but not terribly likely. Oller had fought the Scourge, and not once had he encountered any lizard-men. Regardless, he would have to investigate further. Grapefruit and the goblins would have to wait.

Following the party of undead without being seen proved remarkably simple. The lizard undead proved even more mindless than the Abomination, and eluding a mindless quarry's sight was child's play. However, this prospect served only to alarm Oller. Mindless undead were typical of the Scourge, and the entire party moved with purpose, which meant they were following orders – they were organized. The Scourge, when organized, could be very dangerous.

The party of undead eventually led the orc to a beachhead framed by a series of cliffs. Oller doubled back, following the edge of the beach so that he could find a position at the top of the cliffs. After that he found the undead quickly. It was difficult to miss the Abomination's stink. Both Hel and Oller got down on their belly, peering over the cliff to spy on the unsuspecting undead.

As he took his position, Oller spotted another figure that was dwarfed by even the lizard-men.

"Report!" the newcomer said, in an echoing voice that could only be that of a Death Knight. That explained the undead at least, what with Death Knights' ability to control mindless undead.

The Death Knight was a goblin. He wore plate armor, save for his head which was draped in a cloth hood. Holes had been cut in the hood, from which the goblin's bat-like ears protruded.

"It couldn't be..." Oller said, removing his rifle from his back.

He peered through the scope to get a better look at the goblin. He chose not to use his goggles. Oller wanted to be able to get a shot out as quickly as possible if he needed to. He promptly turned the dial to select a different type of bullet – the kind that would kill without concern of preserving meat.

Oller swallowed, he did indeed recognize the goblin Death Knight – Gizzle Shortstorm. Shortstorm had once been under Oller's employ. It had been when Oller had piloted an airship along with the guild during an attack on Naxramas. The ship had met with a terrible fate, but Shortstorm, and many of the other goblins aboard the ship had met with one much worse. They were captured by Kel'Thalas, turned over to the Lich King and transformed into an army of goblin Death Knights. Todeswunch had slain most of them when they assisted on the assault on Icecrown Citadel, but Shortstorm had survived. Oller had encountered him shortly after the Lich King's defeat. During the encounter, Shortstorm vowed that the Scourge was not yet defeated, and he would see it revived. Oller could only hope that these few undead were all that Shortstorm commanded.

"I said report, you idiot!" Oller snapped at the Abomination.

The Abomination began to speak, but Oller could make out nothing but gibberish. Oller flipped a switch on his goggles activating an extension that emerged from the side of the goggles and covered his ears. The extension would allow him to hear what was happening on the beach more clearly. However, it didn't help in understanding the Abomination. Its tongue or vocal charods must have rotted, or been poorly stitched. All he heard from it was louder gibberish.

"Hmm," Shortstorm said scratching the pale bluish-green skin on his chin.

"Only two? Not a significant threat, especially if the Saurok are already taking care of them for us."

Shortstorm thought for a few moments, then raised his hand and fired a violet beam of unholy energy into the air.

Several moments later, Oller spotted something emerging from the mists that covered the water. It was a rowboat – the kind large seafaring ships used to ferry crew to the shore. The oarsmen were a mix of living and undead humans. The living humans wore robes bearing the insignia of the Cult of the Damned - a group of living humans that swore allegiance to the Scourge. They believed that undeath was some superior state of being.

The cultists did not concern Oller, nor did the undead humans; what made Oller's blood run cold was the monster standing in the vessel's bow.

It was large, standing at eight or nine feet tall, and made up of nothing but bones that glowed an unnatural purple. It was adorned in elegant robes that reached all the way down to cover its feet. All of which were topped off by a pair of goat like horns. It was a lich; the Lich King's most powerful and highest ranking generals. Worse yet, Oller thought he recognized this particular lich, but that was impossible. He had to be mistaken.

Oller strained his eye peering through his scope as the lich and its ship came closer to the shore. It took some time but it finally pushed through the mists that were obscuring the details. Oller was finally given a clear view.

The orc almost gave away his position with a curse, but he bit it back at the last second. The lich he was looking at shouldn't be alive…so to speak. It was Lady Deathwhisper, the lich that had been placed in charge of the Cult of the Damned. She was supposed to be dead – truly dead. Oller had watched her die himself. He personally hadn't landed the killing blow, but he had been a part of the raiding party that had stormed Icecrown Citadel and confronted her in the Amphitheatre of the Damned. He'd watched as the unnatural magic faded from her body and her bones collapsed in a heap. How she was "alive" again, Oller had no idea, however, the undead, liches especially, had a terrible habit of finding ways to escape true death.

Oller leveled his crosshairs right between the orbs that now served as the lich's eyes. It took every ounce of willpower he had not to immediately squeeze the trigger. He held himself back. He knew no single bullet he engineered would be able to kill Deathwhisper. Liches, especially one as powerful as Lady Deathwhisper were more difficult to dispose of than that, and he wasn't about to give away his position just to take a potshot. Still, he would keep his crosshairs trained on that spot…just in case.

Oller watched through the scope as the undead humans landed the boat on the beach, pulling it far enough onto land so that Deathwhisper did not get her rob wet as she stepped onto the beach.

"Ah Shortstorm," Deathwhisper said, approaching the goblin. Her voice was so shrill! Oller almost shot her on that quality alone. "You have good news I hope?"

"Yes, my Lady," Shortstorm said with a bow - though he appeared reluctant to be doing so. "This land is rich with life just waiting to be converted. The dominant race is a society of bear-like creatures called Pandaren."

Deathwhisper let out a delighted cackle. "Pandaren! So those little fuzz-balls do exist."

"Yes Lady," Shortstorm said. "And you were wise to speak with the Saurok. They are gullible fools. I have the first sampling of converts here. Pending your approval, I will send word to their chieftain to 'empower' the rest of his people."

Deathwhisper approached the undead lizard people – or Saurok, as Shortstorm had called them. Her robes were so long, she appeared to glide across the sand.

"Yes! Yes!" Deathwhisper said. "They will do nicely. Much more powerful than the humans we are used to."

"You will also be pleased to know…" Shortstorm said. "…that they are very simple creatures. They lack the same willpower possessed by humans."

"Yes that irritating stubbornness that allowed for the formation of the Forsaken. I will not make the same mistakes of that fool Arthas. Why the master chose _him_ as his mortal vessel I will never understand.

"Now, what of this land's other races? Those Mantid seemed particularly powerful."

"Unfortunately, my Lady," Shortstorm started. "They are relatives of the Nerubians, and much like their eight legged cousins, they are immune to our plague."

"How unfortunate," Deathwhisper said. "Can they be made allies, as we did the Nerubians?"

Shortstorm shook his head. "Unlikely. They are not hive-minded, and are a proud race. Save for the Old Gods, they will follow no one."

Deathwhisper looked angry. "You told me you had good news goblin!"

"And I do mistress," Shortstorm said. "While the Mantid cannot be made use of, they will be no threat. They are currently engulfed in their own civil war, as well as a war with the Pandaren. They will be unable to put up a third front. In fact, I predict by the time they even consider us a concern, we will have full control of this continent's Sauroks. That combined with our current forces, and no oversized insects will be a match for us."

Current forces? Oller did not like the sound of that.

"And the other races? The pandaren? Or these Mogu I've heard whispers about?"  
"Still, no concern," Shortstorm said. "This land is as rich with war as our own. The Mogu are too concerned with enslaving the Pandaren to notice us, and the Pandaren will soon have the Mogu, in addition to the Mantid on their hands. Nothing has changed mistress. I assure you, if we follow my plan, and stay under the radar, this continent will fall to the Scourge before they even know we are here."

"You better be right goblin. I despise having to hide the Scourge like insects under rocks. Do not make me regret sparing your life. I will hold you to your promise."

"A promise I fully intend to keep my Lady. I too yearn for the day the Scourge returns to its former glory. I assure you, this new continent will be twice the homeland Northrend was, and from here, Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms will fall, we will take back Northrend, and destroy the fool who dares to sit on our master's throne. However, for now mistress…well, sometimes a low profile is necessary."

Oller pulled his scope away from his face for a moment. Plans to take a new homeland? He knew Shortstorm was ambitious, but this? They couldn't possibly have enough undead to make that a possibility. Not unless these Saurok were either very powerful, or very numerous, and judging from their appearance, Oller doubted they were _that _powerful.

Also, who what was this that Shortstorm said sat on their master's throne? The frozen throne was cursed. Only a fool would take up that mantle, lest they be consumed by the spirit of the Lich King, just as Arthas had. Oller had not been a part of the group that had killed Arthas. That honour had gone to Frenzical and Grapefruit, and it had been Tirion Foldring of the Argent Crusade that dealth the killing blow. All he knew about what had happened that day were what his colleagues had told him, and that the Scourge, at least the bulk of the army in Northrend, had become docile and retreated into Icecrown Citadel upon the death of their master. Was there something his friends weren't telling him?

Oller pressed the scope back to his eye and watched as Lady Deathwhisper circled the undead Saurok curiously.

"Only five. I was promise six."

"Yes, unfortunately, the sixth met with an untimely end. There were two tauren who-"

"Tauren!" Deathwhisper snapped, turning quickly towards Shortstorm. "The Horde is here? This is unacceptable goblin! We do not have the forces necessary to resist the Horde, and if they get even the slightest whiff that the Scourge is here in force, they will not hesitate to change that! What of the Alliance and the Argent Crusade? Should we be expecting them soon as well?"

Shortstorm remained silent.

"Speak goblin," Deathwhisper said.

"The Argent Crusade is busy mopping up in the Plaguelands. They are not here. As for the Alliance, the scouts spotted some Alliance ships, but it is only a small group. The only trace of the Horde are two tauren, and they have been taken care of by the Treescale. Even if they were here in larger numbers, I would not consider them a concern."

"It would be foolish to underestimate them, goblin," Deathwhisper said. "It was through their combined efforts that our master was slain."

"And yourself as well," Shortstorm said with a smirk.

Deathwhisper fixed Shortstorm with an angry glare, but did little else.

"Of course," Deathwhisper said. "All the more reason not to underestimate them."

"Things have changed since you've been gone mistress," Shortstorm said. "Thrall no longer leads the Horde for one."

"He is slain?" Deathwhisper said eagerly.

"No, I'm afraid not," Shortstorm said. "He has simply stepped down to follow other pursuits. He has left Garrosh Hellscream in his place."

Deathwhisper let out an amused cackle, clearly sensing where Shortstorm was going with this information.

"As you might expect, this has not only led to an escalation of violence between the Horde and the Alliance, but there has even been in fighting within the Horde itself. The other leaders of the Horde are not happy with Hellscream's leadership. I assure you mistress, if we follow my plan, and keep a low profile, neither Horde nor Alliance will notice our presence until it is too late. They have been far too busy fighting their petty faction war to notice much of anything these days."

"Perhaps you are correct goblin," Deathwhisper said. "I will admit, I am pleased with the sampling of Saurok that Treescale has provided me with. They will make an excellent addition to the New Scourge. Signal the rest of the fleet to come ashore. These five will be the first Pandarian members of the Scourge. Contact the Treescale. We are going to need a lot more."

"Right away mistress," Shortstorm said.

For a second time, Shortstorm fired a bolt of unholy energy into the sky. Another signal, Oller presumed. About ten minutes later a boat emerged from the mists. This one was slightly larger than the one that had carried Lady Deathwhisper. It needed to be, for it carried over a dozen undead humans – that and a few human cultists operating the oars. Moments later two more boats emerged. One carried three Abominations, and half a dozen cultists, and the second a single Abomination, several human undead, and a few cultists. Soon more and more boats emerged; each was filled to capacity with Scourge. Eventually the water was filled with boats filled with Scourge. The diversity of the undead that filled the boats was staggering. In addition to the undead humans and Abominations that made up the bulk of the Scourge, there were trolls, elves, Vry'krul, the occasional dwarf, tauren, and gnome. There were even a few dozen Nerubians, the spider-like race, that were immune to undeath, but had aligned with the Scourge. Some of the Scourge didn't even have boats; instead they simply emerged out of the water onto shore. Gargoyles, the Scourges aerial forces, also joined the incoming ranks, flying above the hundreds of incoming boats.

Oller nearly dropped his rifle. This was far worse than he ever could have imagined. This was no modest remnant of a defeated army. Deathwhisper and Shortstorm must have recruited all the of the remaining Scourge remnants throughout all of Azeroth. Worse yet, Oller had no conceivable way of contacting the Horde for reinforcements.

This meant that all that stood against the revival of the Scourge was a group of exhausted goblins, a troll, an orc, and a dog. Spirits help the inhabitants of this land.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Lord Treescale looked curiously at Liostutch and Sadjinn. The two tauren had gone silent.

"Not-Yaungol not like Bone-loady? You fear her?"

"We don't know her," Liostutch answered. "But we know her kind."

Sadjinn gave Liostutch an angry look.

"I promised I'd answer his question if he answered mine." Liostutch said. "He answered mine."

"You wise to fear her," Treescale said. "Saurok without fear are stupid Saurok. That why Treescale are stronger than other Saurok. We not stupid. Treescale still strong though. That why we talk with Bone-Lady. She offer us power. Say she make us strongest of Saurok tribes. She look very powerful. Lord Treescale be stupid not talk to her."

"They offered you _what_?" Sadjinn snapped. "The only power the Scourge brings is death!"

"Lord Treescale not stupid. Saurok been slave before. Not want be slave again. Treescale wary of Bone-Lady, but not wary enough that we not consider offer."

"If you sign on with the Scourge you're the biggest fool there is!" Sadjinn said. "I'm proof of that."

Treescale pointed at the hole where he had stabbed Sadjinn.

"You have power," he said. "You take spear. No die. Lord Treescale powerful shaman, and me sense great power in you. Power like bone lady. Same source. Maybe you lie."

"That power comes at a terrible price." Sadjinn said. "It costs you your life, your soul, and in most cases, your free will.

Treescale stared skeptically at Sadjinn.

"Not-Yaungol lies." Lord Treescale said. "Treescale senses all these things in you, except you not alive. But Treescale see no bad thing about being not-dead."

"I assure you my brother speaks the truth," Liostutch said. "Our kind has fought the undead Scourge, and those who serve the Scourge become completely bound to them body and soul. They become shells of their former selves."

"I had to fight hoof and horn to regain what little of myself I still cling to," Sadjinn said. "And I don't care how strong you claim your backwards tribe is. Very few have the strength to resist the pull of the Lich King."

"Why should Lord Treescale trust not-Yaungol? You kill Lord Treescale's son."

"In self defense," Liostutch said. "Our kind does not lie down and die when threatened."

Lord Treescale stared down both tauren thoughtfully, and then turned to one of his soldiers.

"We not see Prince Salys die," the soldier said. "They may still lie."

Lord Treescale looked thoughtful. "They may also tell truth," he said.

Liostutch could not help but think back to the battle with the Prince. The revelation that the Scourge was in this land shed a whole new light on that attack. Salys had fought with a ferocity that was all too familiar. The prince had not perished even after Armageddon had sliced him in half.

"Some of your tribe has already been given this 'power,' haven't they?" the tauren Warrior asked.

"Yes," was the Saurok chieftain's only response.

"And your son was one of them?" Liostutch asked.

This time Treescale avoided Liostutch's gaze before answering.

"Yes."

"You are a fool!" Sadjinn announced. "To allow any member of your people, let alone your own kin, to take anything from the Scourge is to welcome death!"

Lord Treescale turned angrily towards the Death Knight. He thrust his spear forward, stopping only inches away from Sadjinn's face.

"Lord Treescale is not Mogu!" the Saurok snapped. "Lord Treescale is no tyrant. Treescale tribe value free will over everything. Treescale warriors volunteer. Prince Salys volunteer. Lord Treescale not have right to stop them."

"Lord Treescale," Liostutch said, trying to sound as rational as he could. "I can see that you are a very wise and reasonable leader, and I would like to implore that part of you to hear us. The 'Bone-Lady' you described is a creature called a lich. They are indeed what you said: not dead, not living. We call them undead. The lich are part of the Scourge, and the Scourge cannot be trusted. They bring death and destruction to everything they touch. You must not allow any more of your people to be consumed by them. Your son is proof of that. I fought him, and he was transformed into a mindless undead monstrosity long before he met with my axe. Do not let that happen to the rest of your people."

Lord Treescale stared tentatively at Liostutch before finally speaking.

"Lord Treescale hears not-Yaungol, but does not know if you are to be trusted yet. Treescale will find proof, and then will decide your fate."

Lord Treescale turned to one of his soldiers. "Bring body of Prince Salys to chieftain hut. There work to be done."

The Saurok soldier bowed. "Yes Lord Treescale."

Without another word, Lord Treescale vanished into his hut. Several moments later, a pair of Saurok carrying a stretcher burdened with the two halves of Salys's body also disappeared into the hut.

Even with their chief gone the crowd of Saurok did not disperse. They sat staring into the hut, waiting for their leader to return.

"How likely do you think it is they'll listen?" Liostutch asked Sadjinn in Taurahe.

"Does it matter?" Sadjinn asked. "The Scourge doesn't care about consent. Did they have Lorderon's consent? Or Qel'Thalas? I'm wondering why they even asked in the – ooph."

"Not-Yaungol stop speaking silly not-Yaungol language! No secrets!"

Liostutch ignored him. "There must be a reason. They've lost Arthas. The bulk of their army has retreated into Icecrown Citadel, or has been destroyed. We only know of a single lich, perhaps whoever she is, she doesn't have the forces necessary to-"

Liostuch was whacked with a spear-butt.

"Quiet! Or you pay for your silly talk with blood!"

Sadjinn looked ready to break his bonds and thrash the Saurok.

"Don't." Liostutch said to his brother, using the words to also act as a minor act of defiance against his captors.

The guards' only response was an aggravated glare.

About an hour passed, and still the crowd of Saurok did not disperse. They only seemed to respond when Lord Treescale finally emerged from his hut. He looked absolutely livid. His neck frill shook with anger.

"Release them!" the Saurok chief ordered his guards.

The guards looked shocked.

"Lord Treescale?" one guard said.

"You hear Lord Treescale! Release them."

One of the guards stepped forward and raised his clawed hands. Liostutch felt the magic that strengthened his bonds fade away. Using the strength of a tauren he easily snapped the vines binding both his hands and feet, and dropped to the ground. He heard a thump to his left as Sadjinn did the same.

The Saurok soldiers stayed alert. They formed a perimeter around the two tauren, spears pointing forward. It looked as if they would stay that way unless Lord Treescale told them otherwise.

"Thank you Lord Treescale," Liostutch said, putting on his diplomatic voice.

"It is because you no lie that Lord Treescale grants you this comfort," Lord Treescale said. "Lord Treescale does not grant you your freedom yet. Not sure how trustworthy you really be. You stay in hut. You watched by Treescale soldiers. Get good food and water."

"Understandable," Liostutch said.

"You at least tell truth about Prince Salys and Bone Lady," Lord Treescale said. "Treescale examine son's body. He reek of unnatural sickness. He become monster. Treescale see other things. You make him dead-dead, but he not-dead long before you make him dead-dead."

"How in Cairne's name did you know that?" Sadjinn asked.

Lord Treescale tapped his head. "Treescale tribe smart. Not like other Saurok. We know things. Things not even Pandaren or Mogu know."

Liostutch bowed to the Saurok chieftain.

"Thank you for giving us a chance Lord Treescale. I am truly sorry about your son, and all the soldiers my brother and I have slain."

Sadjinn gave an indignant snort at that last comment.

"You only do what any good fighter do," Lord Treescale said. "Soldiers honoured to die in battle. No bad feelings for that. As for Salys…" Lord Treescale hung his head mournfully. "He good son. Good Treescale. Good fighter. Lord Treescale not agree with his decision to accept Bone Lady's power. But Salys do with hopes of strengthening Treescale tribe. Lord Treescale disgusted at what power make him. You do him mercy by ending sad state he trapped in." Lord Treescale looked at Sadjinn. "No offense to not-dead not-Yaungol."

Sadjinn snorted. "You'll get no argument from me."

"Guards will escort you to hut. There you stay until tonight, attend fallen soldiers life celebration, and spirit ceremony. Then we have much talk about."

"We look forward to it Lord Treescale." Liostutch said.

Lord Treescale gave one final wave of his hand, and retreated into his hut.

One of the Saurok soldiers who appeared to be in charge lowered his spear and motioned for the two tauren to follow him. Other guards thrust their spears forward, herding the tauren forward. Liostutch needed no convincing, though it was only after a stern look from his brother that Sadjinn reluctantly followed as well.

The tauren were led to a modestly sized hut, particularly by tauren standards. Two guards stood watch outside, but the tauren were left alone inside the single room hut.

Liostutch admired the accommodations. "Not bad. It could be worse. It doesn't look like this is their equivalent of a dungeon at least."

"You can't possibly be thinking we're staying here," Sadjinn said. "Their guard is down. We can easily overpower whatever guards they have watching us and make an escape."

Liostutch raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"You're joking right? We have an opportunity to make allies here. An opportunity we should take advantage of, especially with the threat of the Scourge."

"We don't even know how many Scourge we're dealing with," Sadjinn said. "If they're desperate enough to try a diplomatic approach -"

"Then they've been backed into a corner," Liostutch interrupted. "And I don't want to have to deal with a desperate Scourge when we don't have any allies. You know more than anyone what the Scourge is willing to do when they're not desperate. Imagine the lengths they'll go to when they are.

"If we attempt to escape, it will only make us look untrustworthy, and I'm not going to destroy our chance at an alliance with _anyone_ while the threat of the Scourge looms over our heads, no matter how few they might be."

Liostutch took a seat on one of the hammocks that hung from the walls of the hut. It was small for a tauren, but Liostutch figured it would be comfortable enough.

"Besides, Treescale mentioned something about a celebration tonight. Who knows? For a change maybe we'll have some fun."

* * *

"Please," Singh pleaded. "We are a simple farming village. We have no desire to get involved in whatever conflict is going on between your races."

Serendipixie's eyes scanned the area. The commotion had drawn a crowd. It was very possible that any combat she and the Paladin engaged in could easily harm an innocent Pandaren.

To the Blood Elf's relief, he saw the human doing the same thing.

"I have no quarrel with you human," Serendipixie said. "I do not wish to fight."

"Nor do I elf," the human said. "However, I also do not trust the word of the Horde. If you do not wish to fight, then come along willingly."

"Have you ever tried to capture an elf before?" Pixie asked with a grin.

"I have," the Paladin answered.

"Then you have your answer. Would you put these innocents' lives at risk?"

The human smiled. "There are other ways to subdue an elf besides combat."

Pixie heard the footsteps a second too late. The assassin moved silently, even for a rogue, perhaps because it was aided by padded feet. A dagger sliced through the air, and Pixie dodged to one side. For a moment she thought she had successfully dodged the blow. Then she noticed the rip in her robe, and felt a light stinging sensation in her side.

She grinned at her attacker – A worgen rogue. He stood only a foot away, looking ready to pounce.

"Is that the best you can do?" Pixie mocked. "The Gilneans must be getting soft."

The rogue's lupine lips curved up in a sneer.

"I think it'll be enough," he said.

Pixie was confused for a moment – until she began to feel light headed. Of course…poison.

Pixie said a prayer to the light, focusing healing energy on the wound in an attempt to purge the poison. It seemed to work – somewhat. She still felt dizzy, but not as much as she suspected she should.

"Take her!" the Paladin ordered.

The two foot soldiers at the Paladin's side charged forward, swords drawn.

Pixie raised her free hand and fired two balls of light, both of which impacted with both of the attacking humans' chests. The impact sent them flying backwards and crashing into the ground several feet away.

The spell had not been powerful, but the guards must have been caught off guard, perhaps not suspecting that Pixie would be able to fight back at all. It was only the hard impact of the ground that rendered them unconscious.

Unfortunately, that effort had taken her focus away from purging the poison, and she was beginning to feel its effects. In fact, she found she no longer had to strength to stand, and fell to her knees.

"Venomfang!" the Paladin ordered.

The worgen, Venomfang, attacked, plunging his dagger downwards. Pixie used what little strength she still had and caught the blow with her own dagger.

Venomfang chuckled. "Impressive little elf. My poison should have dropped you instantly. It is a miracle you are even conscious, let alone fighting back."

"You should…never…underestimate a…Blood Elf…" Serendipixie panted, trying, and failing, to purge the poison from her system.

"I'll make a note of it," Venomfang mocked.

Venomfang held a second dagger in his other hand. He plunged it down – or at least he tried to. Venomfang held the weapon above his head, and there was a coil of shadow energy wrapped around the worgen's furry wrist.

"No! Bad doggie!" Frenzical scolded.

The undead Priest stood on the Mayor's lawn, holding out his palm, casting a spell that shot a tendril from his wrist.

"Now HEEL!" Frenzical said, yanking the tendril.

Venomfang was promptly pulled backwards, crashing through the deck-railing and onto the ground.

"Or do a faceplant in the dirt," Frenzical said. "That works too."

Worgen however, are not that easily defeated. Venomfang was up moments later, still angrily gripping both of his daggers.

"Do you have any idea how tired I am of dog jokes?" the worgen said.

"Enough to get you hot under the flea collar?" Frenzical taunted. "I suppose that means you have a Milkbone to pick with me?"

"Forsaken scum!" Venomfang yelled.

Infuriated, the worgen charged. Frenzical unclipped a baton from his belt, gave it a flick and it extended into a metal staff. He held it up, preparing himself for the worgen's assault.

When Venomfang was close enough he swung both daggers forward.

"No!" a tiny voice protested. "Leave Frenzi alone!"

One of the Pandaren children threw himself between Frenzical and the attacking worgen.

"Shet no!" Frenzical yelled.

Fortunately for the little Pandaren, Venomfang's reflexes were faster than most. He was able to adjust the angle of his strike at the last second, causing the blade to slice harmlessly through the air mere millimeters from the boy. Unfortunately for the worgen, that last minute adjustment threw his balance off. Unable to compensate in time, Venomfang lost his footing and fell face first in the dirt.

Frenzical immediately turned to Shet.

"Shet, are you okay? Did he get you?"

Shet shook his head. "No he missed."

"What do you think you're doing? You could have gotten yourself killed!" Frenzical snapped.

"I didn't want the wolf-man to hurt you. I was just trying to help."

"That was stupid!" Frenzical said. "Very brave, but incredibly stupid. If you want to help, get yourself, your friends, and anyone else for that matter somewhere safe. I can fight better if I don't have to worry about you."

"Okay," Shet said with a nod, then scurried off.

Frenzical turned to Venomfang, who had just managed to pull himself to his feet. He gave Frenzical a confused look.

"What?" Frenzical said, holding his staff at the ready. "I got something on my face or something?"

"You had the chance to strike me down," Venomfang said. "But instead you used that time to ensure the safety of an innocent."

"So?" Frenzical said.

"I have never seen an undead do something like that."

"Do I look like of one Arthas's bitch undead?" Frenzical said. "I'm Forsaken."

"I know," Venomfang said. "Hence the confusion."

Frenzical sighed. "Typical Gilnean. So…what? I've earned your respect and we're best friends now?"

Venomfang grinned. "Hardly. You are still Horde, and I Alliance."

Venomfang sheathed his daggers dropped down on all fours and leaped! He would now do battle with tooth and claw.

Frenzical raised his staff just as the worgen descended upon him. Venomfang's jaws intended for the Forsaken's throat, snapped shut on Frenzical's staff. The impact of the leap however, knocked the undead to the ground, pinning him underneath the worgen.

Venomfang made wild strikes with his claws. However, Frenzical's staff was between the them, allowing the Priest to keep the rogue at a relative distance. Venomfang's claws did nothing but rip claw marks into Frenzical's robe.

"Hey!" Frenzical snapped. "It took me a long time to find the materials to make that!"

Frenzical muttered a quick prayer to the Shadow and fired a beam of shadow from his palm. The beam went wide missing Venomfang's head by a foot. It arced back downwards and hit the ground half a foot away.

"You're a terrible shot Forsaken."

"You'd think that wouldn't you?" Frenzical said.

The undead took a swing with his bony fist, but again completely missed. Before Venomfang had a chance to laugh at the pitiful attempt, a second fist, one that could not possibly belong to Frenzical collided with the side of Venomfang's head. The force of the blow was enough to knock the worgen from atop Frenzical. Venomfang recovered quickly, leaning into the force of the blow, and rolling over to land on all fours.

Frenzical quickly stood back up, bobbing on his feet, and holding his fists in front of his face. He jabbed mock punches at the air.

Venomfang growled and looked defiantly at the new assailant that had managed to catch him so off guard. He was baffled to see he was looking at – himself, or some demented version of himself. The copy was translucent and enveloped in dark purple shadow. Like Frenzical it bobbed about on the balls of its shadowy feet, mimicking all of Frenzical's movements.

"What have you done?" Venomfang snapped.

"Nice isn't it?" Frenzical said. "Figured out the technique myself. I call it 'Shadow Boxing,' patent pending."

Venomfang growled, he had a strange thought, and glanced down at the ground. The worgen's suspicions proved correct. He was no longer casting a shadow.

"Is there no end to the monstrosities your kind creates?" Venomfang snarled.

"This coming from a wolf-man?" Frenzical said. "But give it a chance. You just haven't seen what it can do yet. Watch this."

Frenzical took a few steps forward, as did the shadow, and mimicking Frenzical's movements it swung his fist at Venomfang's head. However, the worgen proved quicker at physical combat than Frenzical, and easily dodged the attack. Venomfang quickly counter attacked, snapping forwards and sinking his teeth into the shadow's leg. No sooner than he had, Venomfang screamed in pain and immediately fell onto his backside. The rogue winced as he inspected his thigh. There were bloody bite marks in his leather armour, almost as if Venomfang were the one who had been bitten.

"You shouldn't do that," Frenzical said. "I forgot to mention that, even though the shadow mimics my movements, it's still linked to its owner – that's you. So whatever harm it takes is actually inflicted on the shadow's owner – again, still you."

Gripping his injured thigh, Venomfang chuckled. "Clever little Forsaken," he said. "It appears you have me cornered."

"Uh huh," Frenzical said, still bobbing about on his bony feet, playfully throwing punches into the air. "You've gotta go through your own shadow to get to me, and you can't get to me without hurting your shadow – and yourself in the process. I'd say 'cornered' is a good word for it."

"Didn't your bitch of a Dark Lady ever tell you what happens when you corner a wolf?" Venomfang said. He followed up the comment by letting out a long howl.

"What? You howl?" Frenzical said. "Maybe that scares humans, but I'm undead. I'm a monster too. We even have our own scary battle cry. Listen: Braaaaaains….brai – Gaaah!"

Frenzical had been so focused on taunting his opponent he had not noticed the second worgen that had been approaching him. It lunged and knocked the undead Priest to the ground. Venomfang's shadow was pushed to the ground by an attacker that was not there. It flailed clumsily at nothing as its puppet-master tried to squirm free of his attacker.

Frenzical might have been able to overcome the surprise and find a way to free himself if there had been but one attacker. Unfortunately, no sooner than the first worgen had struck, a second one also descended on undead Priest, then a third, a fourth, and a fifth.

"Do you think I would hunt Forsaken without my pack within earshot?" Venomfang said. "After what your kind did to my family, I simply wanted the opportunity to take you down myself. Of course, I'm willing to swallow my pride if it means winning the day.

"Take him down," Venomfang ordered. "But don't kill him. We need him alive."

As Frenzical disappeared under the literal dog pile, Venomfang's shadow promptly disintegrated.

Meanwhile, Serendipixie saw nothing of her friend's fate. No sooner than Frenzical had yanked the worgen away, the human Paladin had charged, his hammer glowing with the power of the Light.

Pixie swung her own light infused weapon at the human's shins. However, the human was not encumbered by poison, and easily parried the assault of an attacker that was. The parry also worked to send the dagger flying from Pixie's grip.

The Paladin twirled his hammer back over his head, and swung it down towards Pixie's head. It would have struck her, if not for the intervention of a wooden staff. The hammer's assault was halted as it clanked against the deceptively strong weapon. The staff was also beautifully decorated with several ornate carvings of various animals, including a yak, a crane, a tiger and something that looked like a dragon, though it was no dragon Pixie had ever seen.

Singh glared at the Paladin, defiantly gripping the staff.

"Enough! There will be no fighting in my village."

The human glared back at the elderly Pandaren.

"You defend them?" he yelled. "You side with the Horde?"

"I side with no one," Singh snapped. "I'm simply stopping a bully from striking down a defenseless opponent."

"Defenseless?" the Paladin said. ""She pulled a dagger on me! And did you see what she did to my men?"

"An act of self defense, expected from any creature so assaulted. You spoke of the destruction her kind has wrought on your homeland, but she and her companion have done nothing of the sort. The only aggression I have seen has come from you, your soldiers, and your hounds."

"They deceive you woman. These are Horde. Did you not call for my aid?"

"An error," Singh said. "I saw prejudice in your eyes during your first visit, but I feared for the safety of my village when these travelers first arrived. I foolishly put my trust in you instead of my instincts – a mistake I will not make again."

"I warn you Pandaren, by defending the Horde you make an enemy this day. I do not wish to fight you, but if you stand in my way, I will not hesitate to strike you down."

"You will try," Singh said defiantly. "I may be the mayor of a small village now, but I once belonged to the Shadow-Pan. You will find I am not so easily dealt with."

"Singh…" Pixie said. "He's a Paladin…you don't understand…"

"Hush child," Singh said. "We will get you help."

"You will do no such thing!" the human Paladin roared.

He pulled back his hammer and swung for Singh's head.

Pixie let out a cry of warning, but it was not needed. Singh had sensed the attack before the Paladin had moved an inch. The Pandaren bent over backwards, effortlessly dodging the blow. The hammer sailed through the air, smashing the deck's railing, but nothing else. Singh immediately counter attacked leaping through the air and landing a mid-air kick to the side of the Paladin's head.

The human had not expected the assault, and it sent him tumbling down the deck's stairs. Singh landed, and then executed a rolling leap down the stairs in pursuit of the Paladin. Her opponent was already up, holding his hammer horizontally in a defensive position.

Singh, a veteran of many battles, had far from underestimated her opponent's ability to recover. Coming out of her roll, she gracefully landed on the hammer's handle with one foot, and kicked the Paladin in the face with the other. Then, using the momentum from the kick, did a back-flip, landing nimbly on the ground a few feet in front of the Paladin.

Singh's opponent was only momentarily taken aback. He recovered quickly, spat out a few teeth, and wiped the blood from his lips.

"It appears I underestimated you Pandaren," he said gripping his hammer angrily. "It won't happen again."

The Paladin charged, and the Pandaren and the human engaged in combat yet again. Pixie watched helplessly as the pair exchanged blows. However, the poison's effects had grown worse. All Pixie saw now were two blurs clashing against each other.

Pixie suddenly caught another blur of movement. This one was on the deck. She turned her head and saw a third blurry figure approaching her. It was faint, but she heard the distinct growl of a worgen.

"No…" Pixie said weakly. It was back! Frenzical must have fallen.

Pixie desperately searched the deck for her dagger. It was no use, even if she managed to find it; she would never have the strength to fight the worgen off. The worgen knew it too. With Singh distracted, and Pixie unable to fight back, the worgen had dropped all pretense of stealth, and strode arrogantly forward. However, before the worgen could finish her, something – another blur was all Pixie could see – descended upon the worgen, and knocked it to the ground.

Pixie could not identify the newcomer, but she did manage to make out a pair of deadly taloned feet, and by the way it stood it was an animal of some kind.

The worgen struggled, but the creature quickly put an end to that. It let out a terrible, yet somehow familiar screech. The worgen screamed as the creature's head descended on it, and Pixie heard the sounds of a worgen being disemboweled.

Once the creature was convinced the worgen was dead, it began to approach Pixie. Pixie spotted the dagger, but before she could muster up the strength to reach for it, the creature's jaws were upon her. To Pixie's surprise, instead of biting, the creature's grip was gentle, and it carefully and painlessly lifted Pixie onto its back.

Pixie was barely conscious now, but she saw of flash of purple feathers, and heard a familiar chirp.

"Jen…Jennessa?" she said.

There was another chirp, and suddenly Pixie's mount leapt from the deck, and ran from the village as fast as it could go.

Pixie fought the poison as long as she could, but it was only moments later that her world went black.

* * *

Oller tore through the jungle like a madman. As soon as he had put enough distance between himself and the Scourge, he had abandoned the idea of stealth. Speed was all that mattered now. He had to get back to camp, warn the others, and move the camp to a safer location. Oller had sent Hel ahead to take advantage of the mastiff's superior speed and endurance. It would give the camp some advanced warning.

Finally, the orc burst out of the jungle onto their landing site. A strip of the jungle had already been cleared to make room for the Town-In-A-Box that was now set up. Oller didn't know how the goblins had stripped it so quickly, but he supposed they were goblins after all. Goblins motivated by a sizable paycheck no less. It was a shame they would have to take it all down already, but Oller supposed as long as the goblins were paid well, it wouldn't matter.

Hel was leaping about in circles around Grapefruit and Torqhammer, barking up a storm. Oller stopped running when he met up with the strange trio.

"Tank da' spirits," Grapefruit said. "When ya not be returnin', and den yer 'ound come back witout ya', I be fearin' something be wrong."

"Something is wrong," Oller said. "Pack up camp. We've got to get out of here, and quick."

Torqhammer looked annoyed. "Pack up? Boss me and the guys just finished setting the whole place up."

"You'll all be paid triple," Oller said.

"Pack her up! Right away boss!" Torqhammer said, giving an eager salute and taking off towards the Town-In-A-Box.

Grapefruit was not so easily convinced.

"What be da' problem?" she asked.

"You don't know?" Oller said. "I sent ol' Hell ahead to warn you."

"I look like a druid ta you orc?" Grapefruit said. "I not be speakin' to no 'ounds."

Oller didn't have time to ask how being a shaman was different than being a druid.

"It's the Scourge," Oller said. "They're here. There's an entire army, thousands of 'em."

"Dat be impossible," Grapefruit said. "Da Scourge not be existin' in large numbers outside a' da' citadel since da death a' Artas."

"Well they are now," Oller said. "They're operating under new leadership: Our old friend Gizzle Shortstorm and Lady Deathwhisper. They're hoping to use this land as a staging ground to rebuild their army."

Grapefruit scowled. "Dat scoundrel Shortstorm. Even free a' Artas's influence e' still be causin' trouble. But Deatwhisper? You said she be dead."

"She was," Oller said. "But she's undead, and a lich no less. Death doesn't apply to them the same way it does to us."

"Someone be resurrectin' her no doubt," Grapefruit said. "Far away from Nortrend, where 'is influence be-" Grapefruit caught herself mid-sentence.

"Grape," Oller said sternly. "Whose influence? What aren't you telling me?"

Grapefruit knew better than to lie. The orc would certainly see right through it.

"I cannot be sayin'. Da' Forsaken an' me. Along wit Foldring, and all uders dat be dere. We be takin' a vow ta take what happen dat day to our graves."

Oller grew irritated. "I have a suspicion what that secret is. Shortstorm mentioned something. The Lich King? Does he still live?"

"Da Lich King not be livin' for many years," Grapefruit said, deliberately misinterpreting Oller's question.

"You know what I mean troll!" Oller snapped. "Answer the question."

"Yes," Grapefruit answered.

"But Arthas? He is dead?"

"Yes."

"Then who sits on the Frozen Throne?"

"Anuder," was all Grapefruit said.

"Who?!" Oller yelled. "Shortstorm mentioned a usurper."

"Foldragon," Grapefruit answered. "Da human, Bolvar Foldragon."

Oller's eyes went wide, though it was difficult to tell through the goggles.

"The Paladin? That's impossible. He perished at the Wrathgate."

"As did da' young Saurfang, yet dat not be stoppin' Liostutch from battlin' him at da' Citadel?" Grapefruit said.

"He's a Death Knight?" Oller asked.

"No," Grapfruit said. "I merely meant, tings are not always what dey appear. In Foldragon's case, da' flame a' da red dragon, he be engulfed in it at da Wratgate. When da leviatons be purgin' da Wratgrate a' da' plague, dey be purgin' the plague from Foldragon as well."

"So Foldragon still lives?" Oller said. "How could you not tell us this?"

"Da Argent Crusade be swearin' us ta' secrecy."

"Why? You all lied to us! You made us all think the Lich King was dealt with. If one still sits on the frozen throne…"

"Da Lich King be dealt wit. Ya' do not understand. Dere must always be a Lich King. Uderwise da' mindless denizens a' da Scourge be running' amuck tru-out all of Azerot, and dey be more dangerous than wit' Artas alive. Dat be why Foldragon volunteered. He rein in da' Scourge. Keep dem locked up in da' citadel."

"Arthas though he could control the power of Frostmourne, and look what he became," Oller protested.

"Dat wretched blade be no more," Grapefruit said. "And Foldragon be different. 'E be a better man dan Artas. Besides, da dragon's flame it be changing' 'im. 'E be able ta fight da' Lich King's influence. It be workin' so far."

Oller wasn't exactly convinced, but he couldn't really argue Grapefruit's point either. Most of the Scourge in Northrend had retreated. Only pockets of resistance on other continents had continued to sow destruction, and most of them were falling under the weight of the Alliance, the Horde, or the Argent Crusade. Until the appearance of Shortstorm and Deathwhisper that is.

"You should have told us," Oller said.

"It be needin' ta be done." Grapefruit said. "If da general populace be knowin' da Lich King lives in any form – "

"The war would never end," Oller said with a sigh.

He wasn't happy about it, but Oller had to admit, she was right. The old orc couldn't speak for Varian Wrynn, but if Hellscream knew about this, the warmongering Warchief would certainly send wave after wave of Horde soldiers to their deaths until there were none left to send.

Oller was willing to accept a neutered Scourge if it would prevent any more loss of life.

"I'm glad you be understandin'," Grapefruit said. "Dere be too much ta be worryin' about in da' present ta focus on da' past. Ya' should be assistin' yer goblins. I don't suppose ya' be bringin' back no meat?"

Oller shook his head. "There wasn't time. The Scourge is on the march. I had to get back here so we could get out of their sights."

"It be good tinkin'," Grapefruit said. "Toh, I 'tink dah goblins be more motivated, with some meat in 'dere bellies ."

"They're goblins," Oller said. "A triple paycheck beats the best of meals any day."

Grapefruit nodded in agreement. "While you be gone, I be gatherin' fruit, it be sustain' us until we be findin'-"

Grapefruit's words were cut short. Blood spattered on Oller's face, and the troll's decapitated head rolled to his feet.

"Grape!" Oller screamed, watching as his friends headless corpse crumpled to the ground. Standing over the body that had once been Grapefruit, gripping a bloody runeblade in both hands, was Gizzle Shortstorm.

"Hello again boss," the goblin said with a wicked grin. "How's my former employer? So, how many goblins did you get killed on _this_ trip? Oh wait, I already know the answer."

Shortstorm threw a single hand into the air, and undead swarmed from the jungle, descending like locusts onto the working goblins.

"The answer…" Short storm said. "…is all of them! Do you honestly think I didn't notice you on that cliff? I knew if I let you run about you'd lead me back to the rest of your crew."

Oller was considered very calm for an orc, but in this moment he could feel his kind's natural lust for battle bubbling in his veins. He would have charged Shortstorm without thinking that very moment if he hadn't been beaten to it.

Hel shot forward, barking and growling with a ferocity Oller had never seen before. The orc's rage was quickly replaced by fear.

"Hel no!" he yelled.

Too late. Shortstorm was faster than the mastiff. His runeblade struck and Hel went limp, the dog's body crumpling in a heap next to Grapefruit – a ribbon of scarlet lining his throat.

Oller's rifle was in his hands in milliseconds. His thumb dialing up the most brutal ammunition he had in his arsenal. He didn't bother with the scope. These rounds were not designed for accuracy. Oller merely pointed the barrel in Shortstorm's general direction and fired, then fired again, and again.

The bullets were out of the chamber for a split second before the metal casing was stripped away letting loose half a dozen miniature spinning star shaped glaives. All of which were razor sharp, and specifically designed to rip their target to shreds.

However, Shortstorm was a nimble little Death Knight, and by leaping about with startling agility, was successful in dodging the majority of the blades. Those he didn't dodge outright, he deflected with his runeblade.

Without missing a beat, Oller switched ammunition again, firing off a shot, which hit the ground next to Shortstorm. The goblin sensed the orc's intention and leaped towards his opponent. The concussive round imbedding in the ground exploded just as Shortstorm was clear of it.

Using the momentum from the leap, Shortstorm turned the dodge into an attack. Flying towards Oller he raised his serrated runeblade and brought it down towards Oller's head. Oller was ready for the assault. He raised his rifle horizontally over his head blocking the blow. The impact of the clash knocked Shortstorm back a bit, where he landed nimbly on both feet.

"This ol' girl doesn't break that easily," Oller said patting his weapon. "Ashenvale Spruce, hardest wood in all of Azeroth. Even that unholy blade a' yours can't touch it."

Shortstorm grinned and cackled. "Here's the thing about wood. No matter how strong it is…" Shortstorm raised one hand, and clenched it into a fist, which began to glow with unholy energy. "…it eventually _rots_."

Oller felt a strange tingling sensation in his hands. He looked at his rifle, and saw that it was glowing with the same dark purple unholy energy. The glow only lasted a few seconds, but when it was gone Oller felt the wood gripped in his strong orcish fingers soften and break with a crunch. It was only a matter of seconds before it crumbled away entirely, leaving only the metal mechanical pieces, which without the wood, fell in a useless pile at Oller's feet.

"No…" Oller said, watching as the remaining splinters of the weapon he had poured all his heart into blew away in the wind. First Grapefruit, then Hel, and now his rifle what else could-

A sharp pain bit into Oller's gut. He looked down. Shortstorm had taken advantage of the few seconds Oller had used to mourn. The goblin's runeblade was now buried into Oller's stomach.

"Ah ah ah Oller. We really should…" Shortstorm said. He pushed his blade deeper. Oller screamed in pain as the sword tip burst from his back. "…pay attention."

Shortstorm let out a satisfied cackle, kicked Oller's thigh and yanked his blade free. No longer able to stand on his own power, Oller fell backwards onto blood saturated sand. His eyes continued to stare upwards at the sky, empty and lifeless.


End file.
